


Counting Blessings

by GeminiWishes



Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers: Prime
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, But I will keep my secrets for now, Everybody likes tears, Fuck the system, I Love You, Misanthrope, Multi, Original Character(s), We're gonna add more tags as things get uploaded, and deaths, and tears, i know i do, like relationships, so I must break you, so many tears, there will be tears
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-30
Updated: 2019-10-17
Packaged: 2019-10-19 02:59:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 19
Words: 126,378
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17593343
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GeminiWishes/pseuds/GeminiWishes
Summary: A simple recon mission for a possible energon deposit goes sour fast. Knock Out knew he should have stayed on the Nemesis.He manages to escape, but one of the Vehicons brought along a human hostage. Knock Out wasn't looking forward to having to explain this to Megatron or having to get rid of the squishy thing.But the human insists that she wants to help.-Amira is homeless. She has been for years. She's content to keep to herself and work on her spray paint murals, but after being in the wrong place at the wrong time, she finds herself aboard an alien space craft.She knows she should be afraid, but she can't stop being intrigued by these strange metal titans.When she decides to assist them on their mission to win a civil war, she faces both new challenges and the pain of her past.But what else is she going to do?





	1. Normal No More

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [The Lion and the Lamb](https://archiveofourown.org/works/12819930) by [Alovette](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alovette/pseuds/Alovette). 



> Like what you see? Come check out my Tumblr and shoot me a message! I love hearing from you guys!
> 
> https://www.google.com/url?sa=t&source=web&rct=j&url=http://geminiwishes.tumblr.com/&ved=2ahUKEwjI2ePR0rniAhVMeawKHXCYB18QFjAAegQICBAC&usg=AOvVaw24zaMp81HoMPcDZIslJis9

“Blast this equipment!”

There was a loud crash as a tray of medical tools was thrown across the med bay, spilling to the floor with a clang of metal on metal. Breakdown looked up from the datapad he’d been looking over, eyeing the discarded tools before turning to watch Knock Out as he had his little tantrum.

Breakdown had learned vorns ago to never try and get in the CMO’s way whenever he had one of his meltdowns.

Knock Out kicked at another cart, sending it careening into the wall.

“How much longer do they expect me to work with this pathetic excuse they call medical inventory?!” The question was purely rhetorical; that - Breakdown was learning - was a common occurrence whenever Knock Out ranted. But despite the medic’s anger, Breakdown couldn’t help but agree.

The last shipment of supplies had come almost two deca-cycles ago, and there had been no word of explanation as to when the next one would come. The crew was beginning to suffer for it as a result. There were fewer cubes for processed energon, fewer cleaning supplements, and fewer energy crystals to power parts of the Nemesis.

And most importantly, there was less medical equipment.

Knock Out hadn’t minded at first - after all, it was only rational to be prepared for a possible shortage of supplies when at war. But the Nemesis’ backup supply of inventory was depleting faster than he would like. Fewer cubes meant fewer refuelings for the troops, which lead to a higher risk of all kinds of injuries when out on the field. Not to mention more infighting due to a drop in moral.

Breakdown turned back to his datapad with full intent to ignore the medic when a light began flashing on the main computer. Grumbling, Breakdown set down the datapad to investigate. He punched in his personal code to access the computer before the main screen unlocked, revealing a notification labeled top priority. “Hey, doc.”

“What?! Can’t you see I’m busy?” Knock Out snapped, his shoulders tense with irritation.

“You got a high priority alert. Looks like it’s from Soundwave.” Knock Out rolled his optics as he stormed over to the computer and opened the file, reading over its contents quickly and quietly.

“Lord Megatron wishes to speak with me on the bridge.” Knock Out tried to sound disinterested, but Breakdown recognized the uneasiness in his tone.

“You want me to go with?”

“No, no. Stay here and clean up this mess. This shouldn’t take too long.” Knock Out stepped over towards a small mirror and ran an optic over his reflection.

Seemingly satisfied, Knock Out did an about face and heading towards the door.

“Try to not miss me too much,” he said over his shoulder before exiting the medbay, leaving Breakdown alone. Breakdown looked down at the tools and trays that lay in disarray on the floor, letting out a huff as he set about picking them up.

 

-

 

“You wanted to see me, Lord Megatron?” Knock Out said by way of greeting as he entered the main bridge. Megatron stood in front of one of the main monitors, seemingly focused on whatever it was he was watching. The large mech turned at Knock Out’s greeting and hummed.

“Indeed. Soundwave has located what looks to be a possible energon mine. I want you to lead a scouting team to see just how promising it is.” Knock Out grimaced and shifted in place. “Given how thin we’ve spread ourselves as of late, I expect results from you.”

“Me? But that’s drones’ work!”

Megatron snarled as he glowered at the medic, his eyes burning a fiery violet. Knock Out felt his gut churn at that ferocious look.

“My liege, I am needed here. We’re running dangerously low on equipment and more and more soldiers are coming into the medbay with injuries.”

“Don’t think I am not aware of your little fits, Knock Out. You have been an absolute terror these past solar cycles. I grow tired of your constant whining.” He took an imposing step towards Knock Out, causing the grounder to flinch back towards the exit.

“You /will/ lead a scouting party, you /will/ search for the source of the energon reading, and you will cease your wretched complaining!” Knock Out opened his mouth to argue, but Megatron held up a servo to interrupt. “I would choose your next words very carefully, Knock Out.”

Knock Out closed his mouth and grit his denta as he stared down at the floor.

He knew he had lost.

There was no arguing once Megatron had made up his mind. He mumbled a quiet “Yes, my liege” before giving a quick bow and turning to exit the bridge. He glared at the floor like it had wronged him somehow as he quietly stormed back to the medbay.

Megatron watched him go before turning back to the screen he’d been observing before, once again losing himself in his work.

Soundwave looked up from his work to watch his lord, his cables moving to continue the work that his digits stopped. A pulse of sound rippled across the commander’s visor before he turned back to his own tasks.

 

-

 

Knock Out sighed as he ran through the readings on his scanners again. He and a small group of Vehicons had been groundbridged to a densely populated city that he’d discovered was named Boston. He and the scouts had driven around for over an hour before finding an area that - according to scanners - was what they were looking for. The streets were narrow and traffic was lighter, so Knock Out had ordered the others to circle the perimeter to see if there was any kind of entrance nearby.

It had mostly been an excuse to park and rest for a klick, but Knock Out stood by his reasoning. The foot traffic in the area was almost non-existent. Aside from a few local shop owners, not many humans walked the streets around his current location.

‘Good’ he thought, ‘Less likely chance of having to deal with squirmy little fleshies when I’m working.’ He gave his surroundings another once over. A few cars parked along the road and nasty little birds were nothing new. There was a human sitting on a bench across from where Knockout was parked. It was a femme, from what he could tell. She was rather young looking, with pale brown skin and a mess of scraggly black hair tied into a knot. She was scribbling away in one of those primitive little tablets the humans called books.

But most notably, she was periodically looking up at him, her eyes a rather unremarkable dark brown. That didn’t sit right with him. Yes, he was gorgeous, and he was used to drawing attention from other humans, especially when he was street racing, but something about the way she was looking at him made him uneasy.

::Hey, Doc.:: Knock Out’s attention was drawn away from his admirer as he opened up his private communication channel he shared with Breakdown. ::How you holdin’ up?::

::This has been unbelievably dull. This city stinks and I can’t go over thirty-five. Not to mention this energon reading is being a glitch. I had to send the scouts ahead to try and find something.::

::Uh huh. And lemme guess - you’re sittin’ pretty on the side of the road while you wait, yeah?::

::You know me so well.::

::You got any idea how much longer you’ll be? We got two mechs with damages from a mining accident in here and there’s only so much I can do.:: Even in his alt-mode, Knock Out found a way to roll his optics. What would the Decepticons do without him?

::Unfortunately, I think I’m going to be stuck here for a while. Do try to not offline the patients.::

::No promises, Doc.:: Knock Out chuckled at the unspoken guarantee of violence. They were running low on some spare parts. If the soldiers took a nosedive, it would help to refill their stockpiles. He debated giving Breakdown the order to go ahead when something moved in the corner of his vision. He shifted one of his mirrors to find that the human from before was crossing the street. He felt his sensors prickle as he realized they were headed towards him.

If this human thought they were going to damage his paint, they had another thing coming.

::Hold on:: Knock Out mumbled over the comm before the human was within hearing range. They stopped right next to him and opened that silly little book again. The human was quiet as they flipped through it before stopping at a certain page. They looked up at Knock Out again before pulling out a pen from the bag slung over their shoulder. They scribbled something on the page before ripping it out and folding it into a square. They took another step towards Knock Out, and he was tempted to drive off before this filthy little human could put their grubby digits on his pristine finish. But before he could even rev up his engine, the human wedged the folded paper against the front windshield.

They stepped away and looked around one more time before saying “Now who the hell would risk leaving a beauty like you all alone in this part of town?”

Now, Knock Out had been on Earth for a while - and as a result, he knew quite a bit about human culture and society. Which is why he found it very strange that this human was talking to what they thought was just an ordinary car.

“Let’s hope your owner comes back soon, yeah? I’d hate for something bad to happen to such a beautiful model…” A surge of pride filled Knock Out’s spark as he soaked up the praise.

Crazy or not, this human at least had good taste.

The human swung their bag around and opened it up, rifling around inside for a moment before pulling out a small white box. They took a step back before holding the box up to their face. There was a small click and a quick flash of light and Knock Out realized that the human had just taken a picture of him.

That uneasy feeling returned.

A small square slowly dispensed out of the bottom of the camera and the human ripped it off before putting the camera away. They stared at the photo for a moment before it too went into the human’s bag. They readjusted the bag again and gave Knock Out one last look before walking down the street, leaving him alone once more.

::Doc?:: Knock Out watched the human until they turned a corner before answering.

::Sorry, Breakdown. I had a little admirer.:: He shifted his hood around the piece of paper in an effort to dislodge it, but it didn’t budge. Ugh, great. Now he’d have to wait until he transformed to pluck out the annoying thing.

A few cycles later, one of the scouts reported to Knock Out. ::Sir, the scouting team can’t find any sufficient point of entry.:: Knock Out groaned at the news. This was going to take another solar cycle, he knew. He ran through a list of options before choosing a course of action.

::The humans have an underground transportation system that runs throughout the city. My maps show that there is a tunnel that goes directly under here. We’ll converge underground and keep searching.::

::Yes, sir:: the scout replied before driving off to alert the rest of the team and begin to travel to the nearest entry point to the underground tunnels. Knock Out grumbled as he shifted into drive. It seemed Breakdown would be waiting for a long time.

 

-

 

Amira tightened the bandana around her mouth and nose and adjusted her beanie before grabbing another can of spray paint. The beat-up radio she’d set on an old crate buzzed and crackled as she fiddled with the dial in search of a suitable station. The first few notes of an electronic song echoed through the abandoned tunnel and Amira grinned as she turned up the volume. She popped the cap off the can and shook it before picking up where she’d left off on her current piece.

Boston’s extensive subway tunnels offered more than enough space for Amira to work on her paintings virtually undisturbed. All it took was a few cleverly placed construction cones and police tape and presto - her own private studio. She had also used another section of the tunnel for a small camp. These tunnels may be dark and damp, but they were worlds safer than sleeping in an alleyway up top.

She took a step back as she examined the piece she was currently working on. She had rendered a scene of metamorphosis, showing a human who’s body slowly faded away into a supernova. The piece was joined by others with a recurring theme - the inevitability of life.

Amira had spent months filling the tunnel with different images telling her tale and vision of the world around her. Some paintings depicted a seemingly unnecessary act of violence, while others showcased the innocence of childhood being slowly stripped away.

Amira let her hips sway and her head bob to the heavy thump of the music as she focused on her work, beginning on touch-ups for the supernova piece.

The rumble of nearby trains was typical and expected in a place like this, so when Amira first heard the low rumble, she hadn’t thought anything of it. But then another noise caught her attention. She frowned and quickly moved to the old radio, shutting it off to listen closely. There was silence and then-

THUMP.

THUMP.

Amira tried to decipher just what could make such a noise. As it got louder, she began to feel a vibration that resonated through her with each thump.

It was getting closer.

Much too close for her liking.

With a low hiss, Amira snatched up the radio and her discarded backpack and made a break for one of the connected tunnels. She remembered how this one lead down to an old storage room and a few power boxes the workers probably used whenever they needed to perform maintenance checks. Surely whatever was making that noise wouldn’t need access to such an obscure location.

The sound grew louder and louder, to the point that each loud thump made her teeth rattle. Other cacophonous noises joined in - the creak of metal, the clack of something against old stone, and the occasional screech of metal sliding on metal.

What the hell was out there? Amira knew she should bug out - it was the smart thing to do. But a sense of almost morbid curiosity took ahold of her and she found herself slowly creeping towards the tunnel once again.

As she got closer, she began to hear voices.

“Honestly, these humans have no sense of style. Why would they allow such lenient security involving their precious transportation? Pathetic.”

The voice sounded snarky and sophisticated - male, from what Amira could tell. But there was something else about it - like there was something unnatural about their accent. She took another slow step and peeked around the corner.

Her skin prickled and her jaw slackened at the sight before her.

Standing in that little tunnel were two giant robots.

They were huge; so huge that they seemed to have to duck in order to fit. She noted that they were both a deep purple with silver accents. They seemed humanoid in overall form, with some obvious differences. For one, they had large tires sticking out of their shoulders and around their ankles. Large, sharp claws hung from well shaped arms that looked threatening all on their own. The most obvious feature, however, was a silver plate covering the robots’ faces with one feature - a glowing red visor that served to help them see.

Amira felt her grip on the crumbling brick tighten as she watched the two robots look around. One of them seemed particularly interested in the art she’d been spraying on the walls. She inwardly cursed as she hid again.

If they realized that she was here, who knew what they would do? Would they kill her? Try to catch her? And what the hell were these things anyway? What were they doing in some abandoned subway tunnel? There was another scrape of metal before the same voice from before called out from the entrance of the tunnel.

“You two! Search the area! We have to make sure to scour this entire sector, or else Lord Megatron will have my head.”

“Yes, sir” one of the robots answered before they began to scope out the tunnel. Amira bit the inside of her cheek to keep quiet. Maybe if she waited long enough, she could sneak away once they lost interest and left.

As she watched the giant robots scan over the tunnel, she caught sight of a familiar object laying near the old crate she’d been using earlier. She silently cursed as she recognized her sketchbook. She looked over her shoulder to find that her bag was still carelessly unzipped. It must have fallen out while she was rushing to hide.

She mulled over her options.

She could wait for the robots to leave and hope that they wouldn’t notice or care about her sketchbook.

She could maybe cause some sort of distraction to draw their attention away before grabbing it.

Or she could take her chances and make a run for it.

She immediately wrote off the third option - no way was she faster than a bunch of giant robots. That left waiting for them to leave or waiting for an opening to make a grab for her book. She looked around for any means of distraction. The old power boxes further back might work, but they would only draw the robots’ attention towards her hiding place.

Maybe she could simply throw an old pipe down the hall or something?

No, there was at least one more down that way and they could see her. She followed the robots’ movements, noting their rather thorough search of the area before one of the bots turned towards her hiding place.

Amira’s eyes widened as she quickly pressed her back up against the wall. She heard the thud of metal as the robot moved towards the opening. Her breath caught in her throat as long, wicked-looking claws reached out in search of some unknown goal. Those fingers were getting dangerously close to her person, Amira noted as she tried to quietly back away further down the hall.

A deafening crash caused the hand before her to pause before quickly withdrawing. Amira let out a sigh of relief before the sound she knew all too well as gunfire began to ring throughout the tunnel with cacophonous pops. She grit her teeth as she covered her ears. Flashes of bright light appeared on the wall adjacent to the entrance to her hiding place and the sound of crashing metal became more prominent.

Oh stars, were they fighting each other? Or being attacked? Neither option was good for her.

Keeping her ears covered, Amira scooted out just enough to peek out and watch the impending chaos.

One of the purple robots was fighting a bright yellow robot she hadn’t yet seen. This one appeared to be a different make than the other two, seemingly more square and stubby where the other two were longer and sharper. Not to mention this one definitely didn’t seem to be on good terms with the other two. The yellow robot grabbed one of the purple bots and swung it around, crashing it into its partner. She couldn’t help but wince at the sight as both robots went down. The yellow bot began moving back towards the entrance.

This was her chance!

Keeping low to the ground, Amira quickly ran over to her fallen sketchbook, snatching it up and making a beeline back to her hiding place. There was another crash as the yellow bot was shoved against the wall, causing some of the bricks to loosen and fall in front of her. She gasped as she stumbled back in her attempt to avoid the falling debris.

No way would she survive if she went back in there.

She had to get out of this tunnel and fast.

The yellow robot got up, holding out a gun of some sort and began firing out bright blue shots of light. Lasers, Amira decided as she watched the brawl continue. She backed up against the wall, trying to make herself as small as possible as the fighting continued. Dust and loose gravel rained down, and despite the bandana still wrapped around her nose and mouth, Amira began to cough as she breathed it in.

She saw her chance to escape when the yellow bot moved forward to close in on the other two. Gritting her teeth, Amira bolted down the tunnel, making a break for the main tunnel. There was a ladder on the side of the wall a few yards away from the entrance that she used to come down here in the first place.

If she could get to it, she could get above ground and as far away as possible.

There was a loud groan of metal and stone followed by another crash as she sprinted to the exit. She made a sharp turn to the right as soon as she reached the main tunnel again. A weak gasp escaped her as she was greeted by four more of the purple robots and a smaller blue and silver one. Two of the purple robots were trying to subdue the blue one while the other two were firing into the tunnel, seemingly unaware of Amira’s appearance.

Taking no chances, Amira sprinted for the ladder, cursing as her foot kept slipping along the first rung out of sheer terror. When she finally managed to get a grip on the metal rungs, she pulled herself up two at a time.

She was only an arm’s reach away from the exit when the yellow robot threw another purple one into the same wall, smashing the bottom rungs of the ladder and ripping it loose from the wall. Amira felt her stomach lurch as the ladder swayed and began to fall. Her worn beanie slid off her sweat-slicked head and fluttered to the ground.

Without thinking, she let go of the aged metal and jumped in an attempt to save herself. She landed on the cement walkway with a thud that reverberated throughout her body, threatening to force bile into her mouth. Her legs were shaking as she tried to stand up, fingers still clutching the sketchbook in her hand. She wobbled from side to side as she tried to stay upright, leaning against one of the crumbling walls for support. Her hair was falling out of her ponytail, distorting her vision behind a mess of wavy black hair.

A low crackle of electricity and crunching metal drew her attention back to the fight. The yellow bot was fighting a new robot. This one was cherry red with gold trimming and white accents. They held a long staff with a prod on one end that they were currently trying to jab the yellow robot with. The yellow robot was dodging it with ease, much to the red robot’s annoyance. Amira was so distracted watching the confrontation that she didn’t see the shadow looming behind her.

She gasped as cold, hard metal wrapped around her and lifted her into the air. She was turned around to come face to face with another one of the purple robots.

“How many of you are there?!” she screamed as she was held tight in the robot’s grip. The giant only tilted its head and ran a red laser over her before looking up at the clashing robots.

“Soundwave! I need a groundbridge! Now!” A familiar voice cried out, and Amira realized it was the red bot. She squirmed in the purple robot’s hand and pushed against the unmoving metal to no avail. The smaller blue robot ran towards her and the robot holding her, only to stop short when her captor held her out in what she could only assume was a threat to harm her. The blue robot’s face twisted into one of frustration before bringing a hand up to the side of their head.

“Bee! One of the Cons has a human hostage!” The yellow robot shoved the red one off and turned towards Amira before letting out a whirring beep. That robot’s name was Bee? The blue robot held out its arm before it transformed into a firearm that let out a whine as it charged up.

“Put the human down!”

Amira was grateful for the concern, but she didn’t feel much safer with a gun pointed at her face. The yellow robot - Bee, she reminded herself - made to charge towards the robot holding Amira when there was loud crackle and a surge of air. There was bright green light that appeared behind Amira’s captor and the yellow and blue robots paused.

“Move it!” the red robot snapped as he forcibly shoved Bee to the side before sprinting towards the light. The purple robots that weren’t down ran to the light as well, turning the blue robot and Bee’s attention away. Amira felt her stomach lurched as the robot holding her turned around, reveal the source of the light - a giant, swirling portal. She watched as one of the robots ran through before she felt her captor move for it as well.

“H-Hey, wait! Let go! Put me down!” she exclaimed, renewing her efforts to escape the robot’s grip. Amira heard the blue robot shout something, but when she tried to turn to look, her robotic captor passed through the portal, bringing her with them.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This work was inspired by Alovette's The Lion and the Lamb! Go check it out!
> 
> https://archiveofourown.org/works/12819930/chapters/29267361
> 
> I made a playlist for Amira that I listen to whenever I'm writing her. Here it is! - https://soundcloud.com/geminiwishes/sets/amira  
> Enjoy! ^-^


	2. Negotiations

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Like what you see? Come check out my Tumblr and shoot me a message! I love hearing from you guys!
> 
> https://www.google.com/url?sa=t&source=web&rct=j&url=http://geminiwishes.tumblr.com/&ved=2ahUKEwjI2ePR0rniAhVMeawKHXCYB18QFjAAegQICBAC&usg=AOvVaw24zaMp81HoMPcDZIslJis9

The sensation was unlike anything Amira had ever before experienced. It was like her bones were vibrating, shaking her muscles and skin into jelly.

She was definitely going to be sick.

The robot’s grip never wavered as they both passed through the portal before stepping out into the open. Amira slowly opened her eyes to try and take in her surroundings.

She was in a huge, dark hallway that was illuminated with pale white lights affixed to the ceiling along with purple lights along the floor. Amira gaped at the sheer mass of the hallway when the red robot snarled. She watched as they kicked the wall before turned to leer at the others.

“How could you let them defeat you? There’s nine of you! Nine highly-trained Vehicons against two little Autobots!” The red robot paced the hall as he began to mutter to himself. “Megatron will have my head for sure!” They continued to pace for a moment before freezing in place, stiffening slightly as they seemed to lose their train of thought.

It took Amira a moment to realize that the others were flinching as well.

“Y-Yes, my liege” the red robot said, placing a hand up to the side of its head, “The coordinates were… questionable.” There was a pause before the robot said “Yes, Lord Megatron. Right away.” The red giant groaned and ran a sharp clawed hand over their face. “And now I get to tell our benevolent leader that Soundwave’s coordinates were scrap.”

“Sir.”

Amira’s stomach lurched again as she was held up and offered to the red robot. She fought back a groan as her backpack dug further into her back.

“We found this human in the tunnels. We believe it is one of the Autobots’ human allies.” The red robot turned to stare at her, revealing bright red eyes that glowed. Amira studied its face, somewhat curious as to how this bizarre thing looked and moved.

Aside from the obvious differences between metal and flesh, Amira found that this robot had very similar features to humans.

“This isn’t the Autobots’ pet” they hissed before glaring up at Amira’s captor.

“But… Knock Out, sir, we were able to get away because we had it as a hostage.”

‘Knock Out?’ Amira thought.

“Of course you did! Those Autobots care about all humans, not just theirs!” The red robot - Knock Out - sneered at her before waving a clawed hand. “Get rid of it. I don’t need it gunking up anything important.” He turned and began to walk away as her captor began to leave as well.

“Hey! Stop! Let me go!” she cried as she fought harder against the robot’s grip.

She couldn’t let this thing kill her!

“Y-You don’t have to kill me! Just drop me off in a city - any city! You’ll never see me again!”

“Hold on.”

The small group paused and Amira bit back a groan as her captor swung around to face Knock Out again. The red giant was staring at her again, his expression more analytical than before. He took a step closer to Amira, bringing up a single sharp finger.

Amira felt her heart hammer inside her ribcage as she trembled in the other’s grip. Knock Out reached out with that dangerously sharp claw, bringing it closer and closer. Amira’s breath caught as her bandana was snagged and pulled down, revealing her face fully.

There was a beat of silence before Knock Out stood back, tapping his chin with that finger.

“Sir?”

“I know you” Knock Out said suddenly, reaching over into his back to grab something small.

“Wh-What?”

Amira hated how fearful and weak she sounded.

Knock Out held out a little white square that looked tiny in his giant hands. She could see the unspoken command to take it, and despite herself, Amira held out her free hand to take it. The square was a folded piece of paper, so Amira gently unfolded it to see what this thing wanted him to see.

Recognition was followed by confusion as she stared at the familiar sketches.

“How did you get this?” she asked as she traced a finger over the quick pencil sketches she’d done earlier of that gorgeous muscle car.

“You left it on my windshield, fleshie. You’re lucky you didn’t smudge anything with your grubby little digits.” Amira looked up at him, furrowing her brow.

“Your… you mean, that car was yours?” Why in the world would a giant robot need a muscle car?

“Correction - that car was me.” Knock Out tapped his chin thoughtfully. “I must say, for a fleshie, I was rather flattered by your choice of model. You even managed to get my good side.”

Amira tried to wrap her head around what he was saying.

He WAS the car?

She peered at his body again, taking note of the meticulously placed tires and the covers on his arms that looked suspiciously like doors.

“You can… turn into a car?” Saying that the car could turn into a robot seemed insulting, and Amira was trying to NOT insult the giant robot.

“Not just a car” Knock Out scoffed as he placed a hand on his hip, “I transform into a gorgeous Aston Martin. And I do it rather stylishly, if I do say so myself.”

The smirk on Knock Out’s face disappeared as he again heard that voice. Amira watched closely as Knock Out quickly assured whoever he was talking to that he was coming.

He must have something imbedded in his head that lets him talk to other robots. An internal communicator, maybe?

Knock Out looked up at Amira’s captor and crooked a finger.

“You, follow me. The rest of you go refuel and return to your duties.” The one holding her saluted before diligently following the red robot down the hallway. Amira held on tight to the paper in her hand, not wanting to lose it and risk making Knock Out mad.

The walk to where ever it was they were going was quick and quiet. She took the time to familiarize herself with her surroundings.

Given how dark everything was and how she had yet to see any windows, she guessed they must be underground.

Were they still in Massachusetts?

She certainly hoped so.

They reached a large door that slid to the side, allowing them to enter a huge room. Amira’s head whipped around as she took in the multiple robots working the computers that lined the sides of the room. She remembered that word Knock Out had used to describe them - Vehicons.

“Lord Megatron” Knock Out said nervously. Amira turned back to face whatever was in front of her, and felt her jaw drop.

Standing in front of a floating screen was the biggest robot she had seen yet. This one was a worn silver, all smooth plating and sharp angles. His shoulders, arms, and legs were decorated with nasty looking spikes that made Amira shudder just from looking at them. The giant bot turned to face their little party, revealing bright purple eyes shaped by furrowed brows. He was scowling, his mouth marred with what she guessed were scars. 

“I hope you have a sufficient explanation as to why you ordered an immediate retreat - an order that you were NOT cleared to give, mind you!” Knock Out winced before a nervous smile slowly appeared.

“W-Well, you see, my liege, I did investigate the site that Soundwave provided, but we couldn’t find even a morsel of energon. And we were attacked by Autobots!”

“Optimus?”

“Er, no. It was the scout Bumblebee and the two-wheeler Arcee.” Megatron took a step towards Knock Out, his glare piercing through the red mech.

“You retreated because of two Autobots? A crippled scout and a weak little two-wheeler?” Knock Out shifted from side to side.

“Th-They were threatening the integrity of the tunnel, my liege. If we had stayed, we surely would have been crushed!” Megatron roared as he stormed ever closer towards Knock Out. “W-We found a human! We were able to use it to escape!”

That made Megatron pause. He looked over at the Vehicon standing behind Knock Out, finally noticing the tiny human in its hand. Amira felt her stomach flip as Megatron stared at her with those smoldering violet eyes.

“And just how-” Megatron snapped as he kept her gaze fixed on her, “did you manage that?”

“It was trying to escape the battle and we used it as a hostage, Lord Megatron” said the Vehicon. “We thought it was one of the Autobots’ allies. It kept them away long enough for us to retreat.”

“And so you decided to bring it here?” Megatron was seething as he finally looked away from her.

“I-If I may, my liege, I believe that this human might be of use to us.” Amira watched the exchange with growing concern and a small sense of curiosity. “The human seemed to be rather familiar with the tunnel. We may be able to get information regarding the possible energon deposit. And the Autobots will no doubt try to come rescue the little fleshie. We can use this as an opportunity to make a trade of some sorts.”

Megatron turned to glare at Amira again. He was quiet for a moment before taking a step towards her.

“Is this true, human? You are indeed familiar with your city’s underground system?” Amira’s lips trembled as she tried to find the right words.

“I-I, uh, I know enough to get around...um, sir.”

How was she supposed to address him? She doubted she could call him ‘my liege’ like Knock Out did.

Megatron scoffed as he looked back at the red mech.

“You’re losing your touch, Knock Out. You’re a fool to think that a human would ever be of use to us.”

Amira could tell where this conversation was heading.

He was going to tell them to get rid of her.

She couldn’t let him do that.

“Wait! Wait, please!” This time, both Megatron and Knock Out turned to look at her. She did her best to sit up straight, although the Vehicon’s hold on her made it difficult.

“I know the subway network. I’ve lived in Boston my whole life, so it’s only natural. I know about a few of the construction sites, and I know a lot about that area your soldiers were investigating. I’ll tell you what you want to know. Just…” she swallowed the bile that threatened to fill her mouth, “Please. Don’t throw me away.”

The two robots stared at her for an uncomfortable amount of time before Megatron’s mouth slowly curled into a grin.

“It seems that you’ve been saved by the quick wit of a human, Knock Out.” He leaned in just enough to make the red robot take a step back. “Since you seem so sure that this human will be of use to us, you shall be the one to question it.”

He looked back at Amira.

“And should the answers it provides prove insufficient, toss it off the side of the ship.” She gulped and tried to suppress her shivers as Knock Out stammered out his promise to get the answers Megatron wanted.

Knock Out and the Vehicon were quick to leave the bridge after Megatron dismissed them. Knock Out was wringing his hands, seemingly deep in thought as he made his way through the hallways. The Vehicon followed dutifully, leaving Amira to wonder just where they were taking her now.

A few minutes later, they reached another door. When it opened and the two bots entered, Amira tried to make sense of her surroundings. It looked almost like a lab with all the computers, tools, and the three Vehicons laying on large metal slabs that were lined up against a wall.

“Set it down there and return to your duties” Knock Out ordered as he started to tap away at something resembling a tablet.

Amira gasped as she was lowered to a counter and set down. She looked back up at the Vehicon who stepped back, saluting Knock Out before leaving.

She moved her backpack off of her shoulders and rotated her arms to ease the ache. When she didn’t feel anything out of place, she pulled her bag over and unzipped it, checking on the contents inside. Everything seemed to be fine - none of her paint cans had been crushed and her camera still seemed to be working. She pulled out her sketchbook and flipped through it quickly, checking the pages for any sign of tearing.

“Why did you do that?” Amira asked as she looked up at Knock Out. The mech turned to look at her, raising a brow.

“Do what?”

“Why did you try to defend me?”

“I wasn’t defending you.”

“Bullshit” she snapped as she glared at him. “When I first got here, you wanted to get rid of me. And now all of a sudden you want to keep me safe? What’s your angle?”

“My angle” Knock Out retorted, “was to try and - what is it you humans say? ‘Save a little face?’”

Amira set her sketchbook down and stood up, crossing her arms as she met his eye. Knockout huffed as he set the tablet aside.

“Don’t get it twisted, fleshie. I didn’t do what I did because I care what happens to you. I failed to complete my mission, and your supposed knowledge of the underground was enough to prevent Lord Megatron’s wrath.”

He looked at his claws for a moment before he added “And besides, it’s impossible to find bots who appreciate a finish as lustrous as mine. If I have to be subjected to continuous company, it might as well be someone that can appreciate the work I put into maintaining my finish.”

Amira couldn’t help but roll her eyes at that.

Great. Of all the giant robots to be stuck with, she got the one who’s obsessed with his looks.

But still, she was alive. No matter what she thought about Knock Out, she was alive because he stepped in.

A large screen was set down before her suddenly, causing her to jump back in surprise. She looked up at Knock Out for an explanation. He tapped a metal finger against the edge of the screen.

“Use that to map out locations that you recognize and write out what you know. And try not to get the screen too dirty.” He turned and started to walk towards one of the cot sin the corner before Amira spoke up.

“Hey, wait!” Knock Out groaned as he stopped and looked over his shoulder.

“What now?”

“I think I deserve some answers if I’m going to be helping you.” Knock Out scoffed as he turned to face her, a look of amusement on his face as he set a hand on his hip.

“You’re not exactly in any place to be demanding anything, human.”

“I don’t even know what it is I’m supposed to be looking for.”

“You’re not looking for anything. Your job is to map out the underground system so we can navigate it.” Amira bit the inside of her cheek, appearing much braver than she actually felt.

“And if I refuse?” Knock Out’s brow rose before that amused smile became sinister.

“Then I suppose we’ll get to see if you monkeys have evolved enough to fly.” Amira crossed her arms to hide her trembling hands.

Never show weakness, she reminded herself. She held up her chin in defiance and pursed her lips.

“How about this?” she said, “How about I mark a place on the map, and you answer a question?” Knock Out sneered as he moved towards her, forcing her to look up higher and higher to meet his eye.

“Just what do you think this is?”

“Negotiation” Amira said simply. The red mech snorted before setting a hand down dangerously close to her.

“Oh, really? And why should I negotiate with you, fleshie?” He leaned in closer to glare at her menacingly. “I could simply squish you right now for your insubordination.”

“You could,” she replied with a shrug, “but if you do, I won’t be able to finish this map. I doubt your boss would be very forgiving after that.”

She was risking a lot, she knew.

This entire argument rode on the robot’s fear of his superior. If he proved unconvinced…

Amira was saved having to imagine a backup plan when Knock Out grimaced and stood up straight, glaring hard enough to burn a hole right through her.

“Fine,” he snapped, “but you have to mark something first.”

“Deal.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lol I literally have the entire story planned out, including a few oneshots and maybe a sequel.
> 
> I made a playlist for Amira that I listen to whenever I'm writing her. Here it is! - https://soundcloud.com/geminiwishes/sets/amira  
> Enjoy! ^-^


	3. Cue and Aye

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Like what you see? Come check out my Tumblr and shoot me a message! I love hearing from you guys!
> 
> https://www.google.com/url?sa=t&source=web&rct=j&url=http://geminiwishes.tumblr.com/&ved=2ahUKEwjI2ePR0rniAhVMeawKHXCYB18QFjAAegQICBAC&usg=AOvVaw24zaMp81HoMPcDZIslJis9

* * *

It took Amira a few minutes to figure out how to work the tablet that Knock Out had handed her - though he insisted it was called a ‘datapad’. He had done a quick tutorial for her, but she still struggled to figure out the process. It certainly didn’t help that so many of the symbols were written in a different language.

But after a few minutes of struggling, she had managed to mark one of the old construction sites she’d hidden in more than once over the years.

“Okay,” she said as she looked up at him, “Now you answer my questions.”

“I answer one question,” Knock Out corrected as he looked up from his own datapad, “then you mark something else.” Amira had to try very hard to not roll her eyes, but she managed to remain professional.

“Fine.” She sat back from the large screen and crossed her legs. “What exactly are you?”

“Gorgeous.” Amira simply stared at him, her expression showing just how unimpressed she was. Knock Out sighed as he tapped something else on his screen. “I’m Cybertronian. More specifically, I’m a Decepticon.”

“Cyber...tronian?” Knock Out only motioned to the pad. “Seriously?” The mech smirked in answer. Amira quickly marked the tunnel next to the construction site before looking back up at him. “What do those mean?”

“Choose one.” Amira did roll her eyes this time.

“The first one.”

“Cybertronian is the name for my species. We’re mechanical-based organisms from the planet Cybertron.”

“Wait, you’re aliens?!” Well, there goes the theory that this was a top secret military operation. Knock Out only waved to the datapad again.

“That wasn’t a question,” she retorted before marking another tunnel. “Okay. Alien robots from another planet. Got it.”

‘That apparently spoke fluent English too. How convenient’ she thought.

“You really know how to take the charm out of something, don’t you?”

“It’s a gift,” she said. “So… why are you here? If you have a home planet, why come all the way to Earth?”

“The simple answer is energy.”

“And the long answer?”

“Mark something else and I’ll tell you.”

“Oh, come on! If you’re going to be this stingy with your answers, I’ll run out of places to mark!”

“Then I suppose you’ll have to better word your questions, human.” She was getting tired of hearing these robots use that as a slur.

“Fine, but I’m not marking anything until you give me the long answer.” Knock Out frowned slightly.

“Where, may I ask, was this fire a cycle ago?”

“I don’t know what a cycle is,” she deadpanned.

“Is there anything you do know?”

“Yeah. I know about a local gang in Boston that runs a chop shop. I’m sure they’d love to get their hands on an Aston Martin.” Amira briefly wondered just what the hell had come over her. She was technically a prisoner right now and she was sassing her captor. Knock Out let out a short chuckle in response.

“Well, you certainly have some bearings on you.” His smile widened as his expression turned sinister. “I would suggest you watch that mouth of yours. You don’t need a tongue to use that datapad after all.” Amira felt her chest tighten as a pang of fear went through her, but it quickly dissipated as she tried to reword her question.

“What happened on Cybertron to make you come to Earth?” This made the smile slowly disappear from Knock Out’s face. He looked away for a moment, seemingly lost in thought.

“War.”

“War?”

“Civil war, to be more precise. It went on for centuries. It completely obliterated Cybertron without ever concluding, so we fled to space. Now we continue to fight and search for energon.”

“That’s what you were searching for back in the tunnel, wasn’t it?” Knock Out gave a curt nod before looking at her from the corner of her eye.

“That counts as an answer. You owe me two locations.” Amira didn’t bother arguing this time as she quickly marked two known manholes that she used often.

“What were you fighting about?”

“Does it really matter anymore?”

“Does it?” This made Knock Out pause for a moment. He seemed to mull over the question as he tried to piece together an answer.

“...We lived in a strict caste system. When Cybertronians were shaped in the Well, they were given a designation and a duty, and that was it. That’s what you were. Some didn’t like that, so they revolted. We were named Decepticons, and the Senate created the Autobots to try and keep us in line.” 

“So… you guys didn’t want to be forced into castes anymore, and fought against the government, and they fought back until you all destroyed your home planet.” Knock Out grumbled in answer as he picked up his datapad again. Amira ticked off another location. “Who exactly were those guys you were fighting in the tunnels? I remember you saying they were Autobots.”

“Bumblebee and Arcee. They work under Optimus Prime’s orders and were likely scouting out our energy signal. They don’t have access to the mining equipment we possess to mine for energon and have resorted to stealing whatever scraps they can find. It’s pathetic really.”

‘No kidding,’ Amira thought as she circled an active station to stay clear of.

It went on like that for over an hour - in which time, Amira learned all about the Decepticons and their ongoing conflict with the Autobots. Knock Out had slowly become a bit more forthcoming with his answers once Amira proved that she was sticking to her word and slowly mapping out Boston’s subway system.

There were still things he wouldn’t tell her, but given that he was part of an alien military, it only made sense that he keep somethings from her. She was an outsider, after all.

When the questions had strayed towards more personal, Amira began to enjoy herself immensely, despite her current predicament.

“Wait, back up” she said as she finished marking off another area, “You mean to tell me that you, a narcissist with an ego the size of this ship, are a medic?”

“Is that so hard to believe?”

“Well, yeah. You’re obviously obsessed with keeping your finish as pristine as possible, and you mean to tell me that your job is to constantly be up to your elbows in robot guts?” Knock Out scoffed at her choice of words.

“Unlike you fleshies, we Cybertronians aren’t nearly as...pulpy. There is some mess, but I am nothing if not a professional. I also have an assistant to help me with the more unkempt patients.”

“An assistant?” Amira looked around the lab in confusion, “What assistant?”

“He was sent out for a recon mission a few cycles ago. He’ll be back once he’s done.”

“Is he going to watch me once he’s back?” Knock Out tapped a chin in thought before shrugging.

“Hopefully. My audio receptors are beginning to static from having to listen to your constant grunting.”

“I don’t grunt!” There was a small part of Amira that told her that she shouldn’t be so friendly, but she ignored it as she set about continuing her task.

Knock Out watched her finish up another tunnel before speaking again.

“I believe I will ask a question now.” Amira tilted her head in confusion and gave him a smug grin.

“Oh? And what could a tiny, squishy human know that could possibly interest a big, strong alien robot, hm?” Knock Out’s unimpressed expression only made her smile widen.

“Why are you acting so placid?”

“What do you mean?”

“You have been threatened numerous times since you arrived, manhandled by a Vehicon, and interrogated for your knowledge. And yet here you are, talking to me as if we’re friends. Almost as if you think we’re playing. Why haven’t you tried to escape or call for help? If we had brought one of Autobots’ pets or any other human, I’m sure they would have already tried.”

Amira’s smile slowly faltered at the query, her gut feeling a tad heavier.

She’d been wondering the same thing for the past hour. Knock Out was right - she should be furious. She should be kicking and screaming and fighting tooth and nail to get out of here. She wouldn’t deny that she was upset, but when she tried to define it, all that she felt was sense of self-preservation and possibly frustration.

“Well,” she stared, “I guess I’ve been looking at the situation from your standpoint. Your men were being shot at, so they found a solution that would hold off attackers. I’m not too thrilled that they chose to use me in particular, but I can see why they did it. And you guys are part of a military. An alien military! I’m a stranger. You don’t know if you can trust me.

“As for the interrogation, if you can even call it that” Amira fiddled with the sleeve of her hoodie, “You haven’t hurt me, and I don’t really care if you guys access the subway system. I just got caught in the crossfire, you know?” She looked up from the frayed hem of her sleeve to find Knock Out staring at her with an unreadable expression on his face.

She tried to glaze any kind of emotion, but the low growl of her stomach drew away her attention.

“Egh, you’re not about to purge, are you?” Knock Out’s expression quickly morphed into one of disgust. “You fleshies have the most revolting habits.”

“I’m not sick” Amira said as she reached for her backpack, pulling it close before opening a side pocket. “I’m just hungry. I think I still have a few granola bars left.” She pulled out two said bars and a somewhat crushed bottle of water. There was only about half a bottle left and she grimaced. She’d have to be sparing with it if she wanted to make it through this ordeal.

“Ah, yes. You humans refuel often, don’t you.”

“Uh huh,” she said as she tore off the wrapper of one of the granola bars and bit into it. It was dry and a bit chewy considering it was stale, but it was food. She swallowed before asking “Any chance you have any food or filtered water on this ship?”

“We don’t need water. And the only sustenance we have is toxic to humans.”

“Great.” She took another bite and washed it down with a small sip of water. “How long exactly am I going to have to be here? Because I won’t survive long on the food I’ve got.”

“That depends on how fast you can work, human. I suggest you get to it.” Knock Out waved to the datapad in front of her before standing up from his seat. “I have actual work to do, so be a good little fleshie and be quiet.”

“Hey! What about our deal?”

“I think I’ve answered enough questions. I have patients to attend to, and frankly, I’m tired of hearing your voice.” Amira crossed her arms in protest.

“And what if I stop working until you agree to answer more questions?”

“Then I suppose you’ll starve,” Knock Out said nonchalantly.

She tried to protest, but the medic got a comm from some unknown officer and was soon completely immersed in their conversation. She huffed, knowing that she wouldn’t be getting anymore information out of him for the time being. She shoved the granola wrapper back into her bag before looking back down at the pad in thought.

She weighed her options carefully, shoving her hands into the front pocket of her hoodie to help with her fidgeting. She watched Knock Out out of the corner of her eye as he strode to a computer and began typing away as he continued to talk to whoever was on the other end.

Looking back down at the screen, she let out a sigh before scooting forward to resume her work.

 

* * *

 

Amira had no idea just how much time had passed by the time she looked up from her datapad again.

Knock Out was currently working on a Vehicon who was laid out on a table. She looked around to find that the other two were gone, probably having already been discharged. She took a moment to sit up straighter and roll her shoulders to release some of the tension. The satisfying crick in her shoulders helped to clear her mind as she tried to decide what to do next.

She’d gotten a good bit of the map done, making sure the information she gave was from experience and not just easy accessible information you could find with a quick Google search.

The hiss of the door sliding open drew Amira’s eyes up to see who had entered the medbay. A giant, blue Cybertronian with meticulously placed tires, a burnt orange face and yellow eyes trudged past her spot on the counter, making his way over to Knock Out. The medic looked up from his work and shot the huge robot an irritated look.

“What took you so long?” he snapped as he set aside the soldering iron he’d been using. Even watching him from behind, Amira could tell that the hulking giant was crossing his arms.

“Shouldn’t I be asking you that?”

“I was trying to complete my mission, for your information! And of course, those slagging Autobots had to ruin everything!”

Amira couldn’t help but roll her eyes as Knock Out retold the story of the attack in the tunnel, instead paying attention to the other bot’s body language.

She’d already deduced that he was Knock Out’s aforementioned assistant, with how comfortable he was when speaking to the medic. But there was more to his body language - like how his torso tilted slightly to the left in a casual lean and how his shoulders had no outwards signs of tension.

“What is that?” A shadow leered over her and she looked up to meet the bot’s bright yellow eyes as he neared the counter. She tried to think of something to say, but the sheer mass of the Cybertronian seemed to make her mouth go dry.

“That would be the fleshie that saved my aft from getting stuck with mopping duty for the next deca-cycle,” Knock Out hummed as he joined the mech. Amira spared Knock Out a look of annoyance before the other bot drew closer, watching her with trained eyes.

“It’s so… small” he grunted as his eyes narrowed - with disgust or something else, she couldn’t tell.

“And it’s loud” Knock Out added, rolling his eyes as he played up the whining, no doubt in search for sympathy. Amira would have snorted if it hadn’t been for the giant above her. He was frowning at her, looking at her like she was nothing more than a bug that had splattered across his windshield.

“Is it going to be here long? I don’t need it stinking up the medbay.” Knock Out only smirked as he spared a smug glance in Amira’s direction.

“We’ll see. It depends on just how reliable the fleshie’s information is.”

“I have a name, you know.” As soon as the words left her mouth, Amira wanted nothing more than to call them back.

Both bots stared at her for a moment before Knock Out scoffed again.

“Do you think I care what you call yourself?”

“No,” she said before looking up at the medic’s assistant, “but maybe you might?” She held out a hand to shake, but thought better of it before giving a small wave. “Hello, my name is Amira. What’s yours?”

Knock Out actually snickered as his partner kept staring down at her. She felt her stomach clench as the blue mech leaned down again.

“I’m Breakdown. And you had better watch your tone. Just ‘cause you might know stuff about some tunnels doesn’t mean I won’t squish you for being an annoying little bug.” Those yellow eyes felt like smoldering fire the longer she stared at them, so with a quick nod, she looked back down at the datapad before her.

Knock Out nudged Breakdown’s arm before gesturing to the computer a few paces away.

“Get over there and look over my messages. I need to finish up with this one and the last thing I need is Starscream storming in here because I didn’t answer a message from him.” Breakdown grunted in answer before moving to the computer, tapping away at the keys. Knock Out returned to his patient’s bedside and continued to work.

Irritation returned at the missed opportunity to ask more questions. Amira’s nose crinkled at the prospect of continuing her work with the map. Her eyes were straining from the prolonged activity on the datapad and she rubbed at them with the heels on her palms. Exhaustion was starting to settle in as she tried to ease the ache in her eyes.

When was the last time she’d slept? How long had it been since she’d been taken from the tunnels?

Amira scooted away from the tablet and reached for her bag. She unzipped it and pulled out the hastily rolled up blanket inside. It wasn’t the thickest, but it was the best she’d found that would fit in her bag. And it kept the rest of her things safe enough. Amira looked around the countertop she was sitting on in hopes of finding some extra bedding.

When she had no such luck, she momentarily rolled her eyes at her lack of reason. Of course there wasn’t anything soft here - these were giant, sentient robots. They no doubt had no need for soft things.

Were their beds made of metal too? Did they even need to sleep? Amira stored the question away in her mind for a later time.

Setting the blanket aside, she wrapped her arms around herself and pulled off her hoodie, revealing the thin long sleeved shirt underneath. She ran a hand over the worn indigo of the sleeve, noting how it stopped at her mid forearm. She’d have to try and snag something bigger and thicker once she got back to Boston.

 _If_ she got back to Boston.

There was no point in worrying about it now. The two bots were obviously very busy and she’d been working for hours now. She deserved a break, she told herself.

So, resting her head against the now balled up hoodie, Amira pulled the scrappy blanket over herself and closed her eyes. The sound of electricity humming and the faint blipping of computers worked as a strange, mechanical sort of lullaby. Slowly, her nerves dissipated and she grew more and more relaxed.

Before she knew it, Amira fell into a deep sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you guys think! I love hearing from you!
> 
> I made a playlist for Amira that I listen to whenever I'm writing her. Here it is! - https://soundcloud.com/geminiwishes/sets/amira  
> Enjoy! ^-^


	4. Self Preservation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Like what you see? Come check out my Tumblr and shoot me a message! I love hearing from you guys!
> 
> https://www.google.com/url?sa=t&source=web&rct=j&url=http://geminiwishes.tumblr.com/&ved=2ahUKEwjI2ePR0rniAhVMeawKHXCYB18QFjAAegQICBAC&usg=AOvVaw24zaMp81HoMPcDZIslJis9

Amira woke with a start to the screech of metal. She shot up and covered her ears, scrutinizing the lab for the offending noise. She got her answer when she spotted Knockout in the corner, his back to her as sparks flew from whatever work he was doing. She could see the legs of a Vehicon as she tried to determine just what the hell the medic was doing.

The high pitched whine ceased a moment later and Amira’s shoulder slumped with relief. She rubbed at her eyes again before glaring at the red mech.

“What the hell are you doing?” she snapped, her voice still raspy from sleep. Knock Out fumbled with something for a moment before holding up a huge circular saw. She blinked with surprise as the saw folded and flipped away, replaced by a familiar sharp clawed hand. Knockout turned to face her, holding a detached arm in his hands.

“Stocking up,” he answered before sitting the arm down on a nearby cart. Amira noticed Breakdown sitting on a stool nearby, flicking through a datapad as if he couldn’t hear that awful noise Knockout was making.

“You’re dissecting a soldier?”

“Oh, don’t get squeamish. This one was already dead anyway, and I need the parts.” Amira stared at the dead bot on the slab behind Knock Out, searching for any sign of life. When she found none, she looked back at the medic.

“Make sense” she said matter-of-factly. Knock Out rose a brow in silent question. “Hey, humans do the exact same thing. We sign a form consenting to having our bodies harvested when we die, and if we have anything of use, they cut it out. If we could just replace a blown off leg with a dead soldier’s, we would have saved a lot of lives throughout history.”

Amira felt eyes on her and noticed that both Breakdown and Knock Out were staring at her.

“What?” The medic and assistant shared a look before Knock Out shook his head.

“How that drone thought you were an Autobot pet is beyond me.” Knock Out placed a hand on his hip as he eyed her again.

“I don’t understand.”

“We aren’t used to anybody being… okay with harvesting. Most bots think we’re nasty for doin’ it” Breakdown explained.

“I don’t exactly hear them complaining when they get a leg replaced after an Autobot blows theirs off,” Knock Out mumbled under his breath as he examined his claws.

“Why would they have a problem with it? You’re keeping soldiers in fighting shape and making use of otherwise useless corpses.”

“Finally! Someone who gets it!” Knock Out held out his hands with reprieve. Breakdown snorted at the medic’s attitude before looking back at Amira.

“You really don’t care.” He said it like it was a fact, not a question. Amira wasn’t sure how to feel about that.

“No, I don’t. Is that bad?”

“Frag, I wish more bots had that line of thinking,” Knock Out huffed, “It would make reattaching limbs much more pleasant.” He moved the cart into a corner and looked over a datapad, checking off something on the screen. Amira looked over the Cybertronian cadaver again before a thought occurred to her.

“What did you mean about Autobot pets?” Knock Out continued to tap away at his datapad, much to her annoyance. “Hey!” she called out as she waved at him. The red mech looked up from his screen and frowned at her.

“I don’t have time for your screeching.”

For a moment, Amira debated showing him just what real screeching sounded like, but thought better of it. She turned to Breakdown and tried to get his attention. The larger bot ignored her as best he could, but when he made the mistake of looking up, he made eye contact with her.

“Do the Autobots have human allies?” Amira had gathered that the pets they spoke of were probably other humans since they’d thought she was one of them.

Breakdown looked away in exasperation before answering. “Yeah, they do. A whole mess of ‘em.” He snorted as he leaned back slightly. “Bulkhead’s got such a softspark when it comes to his little pet. Puny little thing that calls itself Miko.”

Miko, Amira thought to herself. It sounded Asian. “Who’s Bulkhead? Another Autobot?”

“Not just an Autobot - he was a Wrecker.” Breakdown pounded a fist against his chest with a loud clunk. “Same as me. Only I was better at it.” Amira smirked at that. She didn’t doubt it, given what she’d seen the Decepticon do so far. Memories of Breakdown easily moving around giant crates resurfaced.

That brought up another question.

“Hey, uh, what time is it?” Breakdown read off some bizarre wording from his datapad. Amira tried to understand it, but to no avail. “Can you translate that to Earth time?” Breakdown had grunted with annoyance but did so.

“It’s 2030.” Amira did the math in her head. 8:30 PM. The last time she had glanced the time was before she’d gone down into the tunnels. It had been around noon.

Had it only been eight hours?

No, she decided. It must have been a day later, at least.

As if in answer to the realization of how long she’d been held here, a familiar pressure built inside of her. She grimaced at the feeling for what it was and for what she’d have to ask.

“So, any chance you guys have a bathroom on this ship?”

 

* * *

 

The next few days passed with a strange sort of routine. Amira would sleep for as long as she could before getting to work. Every few hours, she would take a break and watch Knock Out and Breakdown work. She had learned about the shortage of supplies at some point on her second day, and had shared her sympathies with the medic and his assistant.

Knock Out would look over her work whenever she took a break and would send it off to whoever was checking it for mistakes. Amira remembered hearing Breakdown use the name Soundwave once after the medic had submitted another addition.

Whenever she was watching the two bots, Amira noticed just how familiar they were with each other. When Knock Out seemed to be looking for something, Breakdown would place the correct tool in his hand without a word. The Wrecker seemed to always be watching, ready to help whenever the medic hit a snag with a patient or project.

Likewise, when Breakdown would be doing some kind of remedial task, like moving heavy equipment or helping patients to a cot, Knock Out would make a clear path for him, moving any obstructions. Despite his assistant's lumbering demeanor, Knock Out always seemed to know where Breakdown would step next.

It was… Amira wasn’t sure if ‘nice’ was the right word. Comfortable seemed more appropriate. They had obviously been working together a long time if they were this aware of each other. It was certainly a welcome change from the mind-numbing work of trying to remember every little detail about Boston’s subway system.

It was two days later that Amira finally finished the map. She had double-checked her work before finally finishing. Knock Out was concentrating on some sort of lab work and Breakdown was nowhere to be seen.

Resigned to the fact that she’d have to wait, she decided to try digging through her bag again in a vain attempt to discover any hidden food or water. She’d finished off her own supply late on her first night here, despite her best efforts to try and stretch it out.

She winced as another pang of hunger made her stomach clench and groan in protest. She was no stranger to hunger, but familiarity never made it any easier. She always had the option to try and swipe something if she was hungry, or if she was desperate enough, rifle through a dumpster.

But on an alien warship, there were no other sources of food. She had debated asking one of her captors if there was a way to get any food, but it only brought up Knock Out’s earlier words. The only food they had was specifically for Cybertronians, not humans.

There was no point in asking a question that she already knew the answer to.

So she worked. By throwing herself into recollecting information and writing it down, she managed to distract herself from the constant hunger pains for the past two days.

But now the work was done, leaving her to her thoughts and her empty belly. Amira debated trying to sleep before another low growl and cramp made her reconsider. No way was she going to be able to sleep like this.

“Primus, will you cease that irritating sound?” Amira frowned at Knock Out - an expression that he mirrored perfectly. “I can’t focus when you do that, ugh, ‘gurgling’” he shuddered with disgust.

Amira knew her emotions were out of whack given her starvation, so it came to no surprise that she felt the burn of tears in her eyes as her frustration grew. Her hands were shaking as she bit the inside of her cheek to keep from screaming at him. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, counting to ten before speaking.

“I can’t really help it. I’m hungry.”

“Then refuel. Really, are humans that forgetful?” She shoved her tongue up against the roof of her mouth.

“I can’t.”

“And why not?”

“Because I ran out of food. I told you I didn’t have much with me. It’s gone.” Knock Out quirked a brow before looking down at the datapad she’d left on the edge of the counter.

“Then you should be working, fleshbag.”

“I already finished.” Knock Out huffed as he abandoned his work and strode over to her spot on the counter. Amira scooted back slightly, his already foul mood threatening to boil over if provoked. Knock Out swiped the datapad and began to scroll over her notes, reading over a few before eyeing her suspiciously.

“If you were finished, you should have told me.”

“You were busy. And I doubted you would have listened to me anyway.” There was more venom in her tone than Amira had intended, but she couldn’t find it in herself to care. She peeked up at him, trying to keep herself calm. “How the hell did you even hear my stomach? I was clear across the room from you.”

“Simple. My audio receptors are highly superior to humans. Your little growls were almost deafening, and I simply can’t have that if I am to finish this research for Lord Megatron.” He carried the datapad over to another computer and inserted it into a slot before typing something in.

Amira supposed he was submitting it for a final review. When Knock Out turned to look at her, another thought occurred to her - what was going to happen now?

She’d done as they’d demanded. They would soon have her entire recorded knowledge of the subway system. But that meant she was no longer of use to them. Would they let her go? Or would they make good on their promise and toss her off the side of the ship? The idea alone was enough to make her stomach churn, which, along with her hunger pains, threatened to force bile up her throat.

Knock Out seemed to be studying her for a moment before he brought a hand up to his head, using that communicator he had wired into himself. “Send me a grounder. I have an assignment for them.” The computer gave an indignant beep before the datapad popped back out. Knock Out picked it up and tapped at something on the screen that Amira couldn’t see.

“So what do I do now?” It wasn’t the most eloquent way to word her question, but she was quickly losing any semblance of patience.

“Keep quiet and out of my way,” the medic replied before the entryway opened up to reveal another Vehicon.

“Ah, good,” Knock Out hummed as he met the soldier by the door, the datapad still in his hands. “I need you to go to these coordinates and pick up a few things. The list is included with the trajectory.” He handed the datapad to the soldier and pointed to something before adding “Try not to damage too much. The last thing we need is Autobots trying to sniff us out.”

The Vehicon nodded their head as they tucked the datapad away somewhere in their back. Amira had noticed Knock Out had done that a few times these past few days and made a note to ask about it later. The soldier gave a gruff “Yes, sir” before turning and leaving, off to complete whatever task the medic had given them.

Amira grimaced as her stomach gave another loud growl, cramping hard enough that she could feel tears stinging her eyes. She took a few deep breaths as she leaned back against her bag, closing her eyes for a moment as she fought to keep her nerve.

She needed to eat. Soon.

 

* * *

 

Amira hadn’t realized she’d fallen asleep until she heard the door open again. She was slow to respond when she heard the hiss of the mechanism, rubbing at her tired eyes as she sat up again.

She looked around to see who had entered or left the medbay, only to have something loudly crash down a few feet from her. She yelped as she scrambled away in an awkward crab walk. A Vehicon stood before her, staring down at her with that bright band of red light that made up their visor.

For a moment, she wondered if they'd been sent to fetch her and throw her off the ship, but they moved to set something else down, drawing her attention to what they’d brought.

A shipping pallet stacked with packs of water bottles was set down next to a rack of potato chips, beef jerky, nuts, and cookies. Upon closer inspection, Amira realized that the rack appeared to be the sort of thing one would see in a gas station. She looked up at the Vehicon with wide eyes.

“Is… Is this all for me?” A small nod was all the confirmation she needed before she stood up and moved over to the rack. She grabbed a bag of jerky and a packet of peanuts, tossing them next to her backpack before moving to pick up one of the packets at the top of the stack. It was just tall enough that she was having trouble getting a grip on sides of the packaging.

A clawed hand reached down and easily picked up the pack and set it down at her feet. Amira looked up at the Vehicon, scanning the soldier’s emotionless face before giving them a weak smile.

“Thanks,” she said quietly before kneeling to rip open the top of the pack and pulling out a water bottle. Her fingers fumbled with the cap as her thirst seemed to return tenfold at the promise of water. When she finally managed to unscrew the top, she gulped down the entire bottle in under a minute.

She grabbed two more before sitting down next to her bag and ripping open the bag of jerky. She didn’t even bother to read the label before snatching a large piece and ripping into it with her teeth. The taste of salt and smoke filled her mouth and Amira felt tears of relief threaten to build in her eyes.

She finished the bag in a few minutes and finished another bottle of water, though she tried to be slower. There was no need to waste food by getting herself sick.

Once the pain of hunger was replaced with the satisfying ache of a full stomach, Amira opened up her backpack and brought it over to the rack. She began to meticulously place the snacks inside, trying to make them fit as best she could. She had no idea if they would take away the food, so she prepared to be on her own for food again.

She looked over the pallet of water packs, trying to decide what to do about them. There was no way she could fit even one of those in her backpack, and she didn’t have much room left for individual bottles. She debated trying to use her pillowcase as a bag when the doors hissed open again.

“Oh, good. I was wondering if you’d make it back” said Knock Out as he passed the Vehicon, a small box of tools in his hands. Amira quickly zipped up her backpack and lugged the opened pack near the space on the counter she’d claimed as her little camp. “I see you were successful,” the medic added as he set the box down on another cart. Amira tilted her head in confusion.

“Did… you tell them to get these for me?”

“Obviously.” Knock Out rolled his eyes at the question as he placed a hand on his hip. “It’s not in a drone’s nature to just go out and fetch things without orders.”

“Why?” Amira squinted her eyes with suspicion.

“Why what?”

“Why have someone bring me food? You’ve made it clear how you feel about humans, so why help me?” Knockout placed a manicured hand against his chest in a show of offense.

“Am I not allowed to be a gracious host?”

“You’re a lot of things, but that is definitely not one of them” she snapped as she crossed her arms. “I don’t like owing anybody favors.”

“You really are one of those - what is it you humans call it? - ‘a beam of sunshine.’” The sarcasm dripping in Knock Out’s tone didn’t ease Amira’s suspicion. The human and Decepticon held leveled stares at each other before Knockout finally conceded, rolling his eyes again.

She was getting really tired of that.

“Your grumbling was getting rather unbearable. I have work I need to do, and I can’t focus when you keep making noise. Not to mention that I still need you alive for Soundwave’s final analysis of your maps.”

'Of course,' she thought. She needed to survive in case Knock Out’s boss wasn’t satisfied with her work so that she would be punished instead of him. She glanced at the water bottle packs again before a thought occurred to her.

“Can I make a request?” Knock Out’s look alone was enough to tell her what he thought - 'Why would I fulfill any request you have?' She did her best to keep her suspicion from earlier and her frustration down as she straightened her posture.

“There’s no way I’ll drink all of this before I leave, and I definitely won’t be able to carry it around with me. So I’d like to use it for something else.” She fought to keep her nerve as Knock Out slowly advanced on her, his mouth twisting into an amused and unnerving smirk.

“And just what would that be?”

“Bathing.” Knock Out’s look of disgust had her pressing forward. “I’ve been here for three days now and I need to clean up. All I need is a tub of some sort and a little privacy and I can wash up. You and Breakdown both keep saying I’m stinking up the medbay, so it’s a win-win. I get clean, and you don’t have to worry about me smelling.”

“If I say yes, will you stop talking about it?” The look of revulsion on Knock Out’s face made her grin slightly before nodding. He looked over to the Vehicon who was still standing at attention, having not yet been dismissed. “Take the human to the wash rack in the other room and bring the water.”

Amira’s face lit up as the Vehicon nodded and looked down at her. They held out their hand as if to simply pick her up, but thought better of it. Instead, the soldier turned their hand over, palm open in invitation. She slung her backpack over her shoulder before carefully climbing into the large, metal hand. When the Vehicon moved to lift her up, she wrapped her arms around their thumb to keep herself steady.

The wash rack - no doubt the giant robot equivalent of a shower - was tucked away in the corner of a smaller room that was off to the side. There were a few crates and another cot, but not much else. No doubt it was supposed to be a more private suite for patients, but now served as a glorified storage room.

The glass door of the wash rack was opened before the Vehicon gently set her down on the metal floor. The pallet of water packs was set down about a foot away before sharp claws carefully picked up two of the packs and set them down in front of her. Amira looked up behind her, meeting that red visor again.

“Thank you” she said with a nod. She set her backpack down and began rifling through it, pulling out a flimsy beach towel. She looked back up at the Vehicon, her expression much more sheepish this time. “Hey, uh, I know that you’re supposed to keep an eye on me, but could you turn around?” The robot didn’t move, clearly not understanding or simply not caring. She grimaced as she fiddled with the towel.

“I just… Humans don’t like being seen without our clothes on. I can’t exactly run away when there’s only one way out and you’re huge compared to me. I’m just asking for a little bit of privacy.” She stared up at the Vehicon imploringly. “Please?”

The Vehicon continued to stare. Amira started to psych herself up to bath in front of the giant robot when they suddenly turned around, facing the door. Her shoulders sagged with relief and gratification. She set the towel aside and dragged one of the packs next to the drain, located in the middle of the wash rack, before ripping the plastic open and pulling out about half of the bottles.

When she was satisfied with the set-up, she quickly moved back over to her bag and began to remove her clothes. She kicked off her scuffed up tennis shoes, noting how frayed the shoelaces were getting and how thing the rubber was. She tugged off the rest of her clothes, making sure to at least fold up her jeans and hoodie before tossing her shirt and underwear on top of the pile.

She brought the beach towel with her over to the drain, shivering as her bare feet made contact with the cool metal flooring. She knelt on the drain and set the towel to the side before she began the painstaking work of unscrewing bottles and cleaning herself.

She did the best she could given what she had, but it was difficult to clean herself properly when she had to constantly have one hand occupied holding a bottle. Despite her wish for soap, she was almost grateful that there wasn't any - it would have been a disaster to clean up with only one hand.

Still, after almost twenty minutes, Amira was at least a semblance of a clean human being.

She dried her hair as best she could before toweling off her body. She redressed quickly, pulling back on the same clothes as before since she had no others. She was happy at least to have her socks and shoes back on. She folded up the wet towel and set it aside before cleaning up the now empty plastic bottles. Not knowing what else to do with them, she stuffed them back into the packaging before carrying the half-full pack back over to the pallet.

“I’m done,” she called out to the Vehicon who was still facing away from her, “You can look now.” The robot did so, staring at her for a moment before kneeling down and holding out their hand once again.

Backpack in hand, Amira climbed back into their open palm and held onto their thumb. The Vehicon restacked the water packs before picking up the pallet again and standing up. Amira felt her stomach lurch as the ground dropped away, closing her eyes to try and calm herself as she was carried back out into the main medbay.

Knock Out was still typing away at something on a datapad, clearly engrossed in whatever he was reading. The Vehicon quickly and quietly walked back over to the countertop, setting both the water and Amira down.

Amira eagerly stepped back onto the counter before looking back up at the Vehicon.

“Thanks again,” she said, before adding on, “um, I’m Amira, by the way.” The Vehicon didn’t have any visual reaction to her words, simply staring down at her before turning back to Knock Out and standing at attention.

“Permission to return to my duties, sir,” the deep, slightly cybernetic tone of the Vehicon rumbled. Knock Out looked up from his datapad, his eyes flickering down to Amira for a moment before returning back to the soldier.

“Permission granted. Off you go,” he said offhandedly as he looked back at his datapad. The Vehicon saluted the medic before doing an about face and moving towards the door. Amira watched them go, noting how when the door opened, the Vehicon spared a glance over their shoulder at her before exiting the medbay.

“Dare I ask why you continue to tell mechs your designation?” Amira’s brow furrowed with confusion at Knockout’s question. Mistaking her look for confusion, Knock Out added on “Your designation is what you call yourself.”

“What’s so wrong with telling you my name? You already kidnapped me. Why shouldn’t I tell people?”

“Because it’s pointless.” Knock Out shot her a demeaning glance over his datapad. “You sharing your designation is the equivalent of an insect sharing theirs with you.”

“Maybe because if I tell you, you might just start calling me by my name.” She didn’t try to hide the sarcasm in her voice this time.

“Doubtful,” Knock Out chuckled. Amira ignored him as she sat back down, pulling her blanket closer and wrapping it around herself to fend off the chill her wet hair seemed to be drawing in. She pulled out another snack package, this one a bag of potato chips.

Once she’d eaten again and cracked open another water bottle, Amira settled down, her full belly chasing away almost all of her earlier negative feelings.

 

* * *

 

“Wake up.” Knock Out’s snarky voice purred, drawing Amira out of sleep. She grumbled slightly as she sat up, blinking away the sleep as she looking up at him.

“Huh?” Her voice was groggy and weak as she stretched and yawned.

“Soundwave has finished reviewing your map, fleshie. Lord Megatron has order that you be brought to the bridge.” She frowned with confusion.

“Why? He doesn’t need me to translate it.”

“Don’t question our lord’s wishes, fleshie. We have to go.” He held out a hand to her, and Amira blinked with surprise at the realization that he expected her to crawl into his hand.

In the three days she’d been here, Knock Out had never once touched her. He’d actively avoided it, as a matter of fact. He always just gestured for her to move if she was in his way or he wanted her to be quiet. He’d once used the end of a stylus to nudge her away from the edge of the countertop when she’d started to swing her legs off in boredom.

She looked up at him in question, only to see his expectant expression slowly growing more and more irritated. Not wanting him to forego pleasantries and simply grab her, Amira carefully crawled into his palm and sat down, placing a hand on his thumb to keep herself balanced. His hand wasn’t that big - maybe the size of a coffee table, if she tried to compare it to something she’d sat on before.

Knock Out wasted no time picking her up and exiting the medbay, turning down a corridor and heading towards the bridge. Amira held on tight to the mech’s thumb as he walked, shivering slightly as wind passed through her still damp hair. She brought a hand up to try and quickly comb through the tangles. She should try to be a little presentable for the leader of an entire military faction. She was suddenly immensely grateful she’d bathed earlier.

When they neared the door that lead onto the bridge, Amira felt herself tense with nervous energy. She looked up at Knock Out and nudged his thumb slightly.

“What am I supposed to say?”

“If Primus is feeling generous, nothing at all,” Knock Out snapped before they walked onto the bridge. The scene before them was almost the exact same as it had been three days ago. Vehicons were working at giant computers along the sides of the large room and few were walking in and out of sight to send off orders.

Megatron was once again standing at a console near the front of the ship, the gray skies outside outlining his frame and making him seem even darker.

This time, however, someone else was standing next to Megatron, seemingly in deep conversation with him. Amira took note of the slim, sharp angles of this Decepticon. He was a good two heads shorter than Megatron and was completely black and purple. The mech’s arms were odd, flat and long. As they neared the two bots, Amira noticed that Megatron was the only one actually talking while the other one simply nodded and listened.

As if sensing her eyes, the mech turned to look at her, revealing a sleek, black visor in place of a face. Amira tried to hide her confusion and curiosity as a line of text ran along the screen for a moment, too fast for her to read, before going blank again.

“Ah, Knock Out. I see you’ve done as I requested,” said Megatron as he too took note of their arrival.

“Of course, my liege.” Amira noted the hint of smugness in Knock Out's tone. She had thought perhaps it was something he only used with patients and Breakdown, but she was beginning to suspect that it was just a part of him.

“Soundwave has finished looking over the human’s map and has deemed it trustworthy. We have already begun to form a plan of operation on the energon deposits we’ve been able to pinpoint.” The warlord leaned forward slightly, fixing a glare on the medic. “I don’t have to tell you what will happen if you are unsuccessful again, do I?”

“A-Absolutely not, my liege.” Knock Out tensed slightly as he straightened his posture.

Amira suddenly found those bright violet eyes fixed on her. She felt her heart hammering in her chest as he studied her for a moment before speaking.

“It seems you were a competent informant after all. You have done a great service for the Decepticon cause.”

She highly doubted that. From what Knock Out had said, they just wanted to mine energon. That hardly seemed anything worthy of actual praise. She figured he was probably mocking her. Against her better judgement, Amira decided to be honest.

“You’re welcome,” she said with a nod. “At least something noteworthy came out of those old tunnels.” She took a moment to be proud for her voice not wavering.

Megatron almost looked amused, if she had to guess. It was difficult to tell when every expression included a flash of sharpened teeth.

“It appears you do not quite grasp the situation,” Megatron hissed, those wickedly sharp fangs glinting behind a smug grin. “You’re a little traitor, bug.”

Amira didn’t flinch at the words. In fact, a small ember began to grow in her chest. She leveled her gaze with the warlord’s, her face the picture of respect and something smug.

“I know you’re trying to say that like it’s an insult, but I take it as a compliment, if you must know.” She could feel Knock Out’s grip falter slightly, the mech no doubt horrified by her casual tone and brush off of his leader’s words. Megatron’s eyes seemed to burn brighter as that grin slowly turned thoughtful.

“Explain.” Even though he was not her commanding officer, Amira felt the urge to obey.

“Megatron, sir, I’ll be frank with you - I couldn't care less about humanity.” That definitely drew a few looks from nearby soldiers, including the three mechs surrounding her.

Amira was used to this reaction. She’d always hated it whenever she’d opened up about it in the past. She could still see the horrified expression on her middle school guidance counselor’s face in her mind. It was why she had started keeping her thoughts to herself. But if there was anyone who would listen and, dare she say, sympathize with her, it would be these alien titans.

“I’m what people call a misanthrope. I hold no love for my species. Humans are a complete waste of oxygen and, if I’m being honest, I’m surprised it’s taken this long for an alien species to come and try to conquer us. Humans are just begging to be enslaved.” It wasn’t lost on Amira just how many Cybertronians were staring at her now. They probably hadn’t expected anyone to agree with their thoughts on the human race.

“I must say, I am… intrigued,” said Megatron. He ran a clawed hand over his chin, thinking something over if his eyes looking her over were any indication. “Do you wish to know what fate awaits your kind?”

“If you’re willing to share.” Amira squashed that little voice telling her to shut up and be a bit more respectful. She was feeling lighter, her shoulders relaxing slightly as she peered up at the Decepticon.

“When we conquer this planet, and we will,” Megatron strained the words - more to convince himself than her, she decided - “Your kind will serve as remedial workers. Hard laborers serving the glorious cause of the Decepticons. Some of you may end up as pets, others may be used as lab rats for our scientists in our efforts to further our plans. No matter where you end up though, I will be your lord. Your god.” Megatron leaned forward, bringing his face closer to Amira. “Do you understand what that means, human?”

Amira imagined it for a moment. Humans mining the energon that the Decepticons so desperately needed. Humans serving Decepticons and furthering their cause. Humans no longer having any control over their own lives or any others. A small smile formed on her lips.

“It sounds like you really know how to use a resource,” she answered. Megatron studied her for a moment before his grin returned. He stood up again and looked up at Knock Out.

“It seems you have stumbled upon something very interesting indeed, Knock Out.” He looked down at her again as he said “I believe we will be keeping this human for a bit longer.” Her eyes widened slightly at his decision. She blinked in surprise, unsure whether or not she’d heard correctly.

Was he saying she was to stay here?

“Soundwave,” Megatron said as he turned to look at the mech standing a step behind him, “I trust you will find a use for this interesting little bug.”

“Erm, forgive me, my liege,” Knock Out interjected, his fingers curling slightly around Amira, “but I’m not sure I follow. We have the map and all the information we needed. Shouldn’t I get rid of the fleshie?” Amira looked up at him for the first time since they’d entered the bridge and glowered at him.

“I have made my decision. Do not question me, Knock Out,” Megatron spat. The medic flinched slightly as Megatron turned back to Soundwave. “See to it that the worm is given its next task.” He eyed Amira over his broad, spiked shoulder. “I expect results from you, human.”

Amira felt her teeth chatter involuntarily at the glare he fixed on her. She nodded quickly as she said “Y-Yes.” She winced at the stutter, but it seemed to satisfy Megatron as he turned to walk back to his console. The smaller mech - Soundwave, she told herself - watched Megatron pass him before turning to look at her.

Amira stayed perfectly still as the bot neared her, symbols and readings flickering across his visor faster than she could comprehend them. A red laser shot out, making her flinch as it passed over her harmlessly. Soundwave looked up at Knock Out, seeming to be having a silent discussion with him before straightening and returning to his own post.

Megatron looked back over his shoulder at them and frowned. “What are you still doing here? Dismissed!” Knock Out jumped into action, stuttering out his understanding and bowing slightly before he turned and quickly tread out of the bridge.

Amira had expected Knock Out to begin ranting about the odd turn of events the moment they had turned the corner, but the medic remained silent for the entire walk back to the medbay.

When they reached the medbay, Breakdown was leaning against a wall with his arms crossed. He stood up when he saw them step inside. As soon as the doors closed behind Knock Out, the medic all but tossed Amira onto the counter. She grunted as she rolled over, absorbing most of the impact into her arms.

“What was that?” Knock Out snapped. Amira frowned up at him as she got to her feet. “I’m starting to think you’re glitched!”

“What was I supposed to do? It felt wrong to just say nothing.”

“I told you to keep your fragging noise hole shut!”

“So, I’m gonna go ahead and guess that it didn’t go well?” Breakdown hummed as he joined Knock Out’s side. Knock Out spun around on his heel and threw his arms up in frustration.

“Oh no, it went fragging perfect! The fleshie is going to stay!” he exclaimed. Breakdown blinked with surprise before looking down at Amira in confusion. She gave a small shrug, unsure what to say. Knock Out was grumbling to himself and began to pace in front of one of the cots.

“Hey, c’mon, Doc. It’ll be fine.” Breakdown tried to comfort the medic with a hand on his shoulder, only for Knockout to shrug it off before turning to glare at her.

“Why didn’t you say anything about staying here? You’ve been unusually docile this entire time and now you won’t even fight for your freedom?” Amira tilted her head in confusion.

“Wait, I thought you were mad _because_ I spoke?”

“Oh, I am. Don’t get it twisted, fleshbag,” he hissed as he glared. “But you didn’t even try to object when Megatron ordered that you stay aboard. Don’t you have a nest you need to get back to? Or at least a pack?”

Amira stared up at him for a moment, her expression devoid of emotion.

“No. Not really.” Knock Out seemed taken aback by that.

“I don’t have any family looking for me. And I don’t live out of a backpack because I like it.” The two mechs stared at her as Breakdown spoke.

“You’re homeless.” It wasn’t a question. Amira crossed her arms and looked away. She didn’t want their pity or their disgust. She had enough of that from people who passed her on the streets.

“I was camping out in the tunnels. That’s why I was down there in the first place,” she said with a shrug. “It’s safer than sleeping in an alley. Warmer too.” Neither bot said a word. Amira shoved her tongue against the inside of her cheek in frustration

A beep came from the computer, and both bots seemed very interested in whatever it was as they both quickly walked over to the monitor. Amira frowned and walked back over to her bag, pulling out her flimsy blanket and wrapping it around herself as she sat down.

Maybe she’d get lucky and fall asleep again.

A sudden loud clack startled her eyes open before she even got comfortable. Knock Out shoved a datapad closer to her before clicking something on the screen. She frowned down at the datapad and eyed him warily.

“They’re your first orders from Soundwave,” Knock Out said blandly. Amira crawled closer to the tablet and began to read over the orders. Most of it was military jargon that she didn’t even try to translate. She caught a few keys sentences that thankfully seemed to cover everything well enough.

‘ _Upon further analysis, it has been determined that the human shows potential in surveillance and espionage. The human agent will train under the Decepticon officers until such time that their skill proves beneficial to the Decepticon cause._ ’

‘Surveillance, huh?’ Amira read through the orders again to try and find more, but gave up on her third attempt. At the bottom of the paragraph was a small note and a link.

‘ _Read and memorize the attached files. Submit response upon completion._ ’

Amira tapped on the link and was taken to a massive zip file. Amira’s brow furrowed at the title.

“ _The Glorious History of Cybertron_?” she read aloud, looking up at Knock Out for further explanation.

“I suppose if you’re to work for us, you’ll need to understand what exactly we are trying to do,” he hummed as he moved to a cart laden with tools. “I’d get started if I were you, fleshie.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You guys. This chapter alone is 6,903 words. Seventeen pages.
> 
> Why. Do I do this. To myself.
> 
> Easy - I'm a masochist, apparently.
> 
> I also went back and edited the other chapters to better space out everything. Also had to fix a grammar issue that I just now caught, four frickin' chapters in.
> 
> I made a playlist for Amira that I listen to whenever I'm writing her. Here it is! - https://soundcloud.com/geminiwishes/sets/amira  
> Enjoy! ^-^


	5. Settling

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Like what you see? Come check out my Tumblr and shoot me a message! I love hearing from you guys!
> 
> https://www.google.com/url?sa=t&source=web&rct=j&url=http://geminiwishes.tumblr.com/&ved=2ahUKEwjI2ePR0rniAhVMeawKHXCYB18QFjAAegQICBAC&usg=AOvVaw24zaMp81HoMPcDZIslJis9

Bumblebee let out another indignant beep as Ratchet pinched off a leaking cable. He’d been stuck on the medic’s table since the moment they’d bridged back and he was getting restless, despite the pain coming from his side.

“Bumblebee, if you don’t stop moving, I will clamp you down to this berth,” Ratchet snapped before grabbing another tool. Bumblebee whined again but respectfully stilled for him.

“Is he gonna be okay?” Rafael asked from his perch on the raised walkway.

“He’ll live,” said Ratchet. “Knock Out wasn’t trying to offline anyone. That prod of his was only set to stun.” Rafael watched Bee squirm again, drumming his digits against the berth.

“Man, I wish I could have gone” Miko groaned as she flopped onto the couch. Jack rolled his eyes before he turned back to Arcee.

“You’re sure you’re okay?” he asked as he looked over the multitude of dents and scratches all along Arcee’s frame.

“I’ve had worse,” she assured her partner, rolling her shoulders to ease the ache that ran down through her frame. She sighed as she looked over at the silo’s exit, hoping that Optimus would return soon.

They’d tried their best to keep the Decepticons out of populated cities, but they still found ways to go undetected if they wished. When Ratchet had deduced that the Cons were underground, Optimus had sent her and Bumblebee due to their small size and their quick reflexes.

‘Not quick enough,’ she thought as she watched Ratchet begin welding on another patch over Bumblebee’s side.

“Optimus Prime to base, requesting groundbridge.” Everyone perked up at the familiar rumble of the Prime’s voice on the communication hub. Ratchet set aside his tools and made his way over to the computer.

“Autobot base to Optimus, we read you. Sending groundbridge now,” Ratchet answered as he finished putting in Optimus’ coordinates and moved to the activation switch. “Activating now,” he said before pulling the switch.

There was a spark and a crackle before the groundbridge appeared, bright green and blue light swirling and almost blinding. The rev of an engine announced their leader before he appeared, driving quickly through the groundbridge and into the missile silo. Bulkhead followed close behind, his engine rumbling as they entered the base.

Both bots transformed before addressing the others.

“Hey, Bulk!” Miko exclaimed as she waved at her friend, “Didja bring me anything?”

“Eh, the place was pretty empty, Miko,” Bulkhead hummed as he walked over to the raised platform.

“Aw,” Miko groaned as she deflated slightly. “No Con action AND no souvenir? Today totally blows.” Bulkhead frowned slightly before seeming to notice Bee on the medical berth.

“Optimus,” Arcee said by way of greeting as she stood up and approached. Optimus took in the damage to her frame before running an eye over Bumblebee.

“It appears you and Bumblebee had complications on your mission,” he said before looking back at Arcee, his expression wordlessly asking that she explain what had happened.

“Bee and I had a run-in with Knock Out. He had some grunts with him and they seemed to be looking for something - probably an energon deposit.” Bumblebee beeped with annoyance and tried to sit up.

“Ep, ep, ep! Don’t try to sit up yet,” Ratchet scolded as he shut off the groundbridge and rejoined the scout.

“We tried to push them back, but Knock Out called for a groundbridge and got in a cheap shot on Bee before bolting.” Optimus hummed as he nodded with sympathy.

“I am glad you and Bumblebee managed to return to us with minimal damage. We will alert the human authorities of the damage to their underground system so they may begin repairs.” Bumblebee gave another low buzz, his optics trained on Arcee. She grimaced slightly before speaking again.

“Optimus… when we were in the tunnels, one of the Cons managed to capture a human. They held her hostage until they’d cleared out and took her with them through the groundbridge.”

That got Optimus’ attention. And everyone else’s. Even Ratchet had stopped his check-up of Bumblebee to stare at the two-wheeler with a look of shock.

“Wait, they took a human?” Jack asked, his eyes widening slightly as he stared up at Arcee. “You didn’t say anything about that!” Arcee didn’t meet Jack’s eye, choosing instead to keep standing at attention and looking up at Optimus. “Optimus, if the Cons have a human, we have to rescue them.” Jack turned his attention to the Prime, his brow furrowed slightly with stubborn determination.

“I don’t see how we could,” Ratchet cut in. “We cannot track the Nemesis or any of the Decepticons aboard. Not with the cloaking technology they harness.”

“Well, we have to do something!” Jack retorted.

“Yeah!” Miko cheered as her smile twisted slightly with mischief. “Rescue mission!”

“Miko,” Bulkhead warned, watching his human charge as she began to throw a few quick punches into the space in front of her.

“Ratchet,” Optimus finally said, drawing everyone’s attention, “Contact Agent Fowler. We must brief him on the situation.”

“With all due respect, Optimus, what can Fowler do?” Ratchet questioned. “The humans don’t stand a chance against the Decepticons.”

“Hey!” Miko interjected. Ratchet frowned at her interruption.

“While the humans’ military will indeed not hold up against the Decepticons, Agent Fowler has previously been aboard the Nemesis. He may have information pertaining to the human’s location aboard the vessel. And once we rescue the human, Agent Fowler will need to run interference. This human now knows of our existence.”

Ratchet looked like he wanted to argue, but he decided against it as he muttered a soft “Of course” before turning towards the console to set about contacting Fowler. Rafael watched Ratchet work for a moment before looking back at the Autobots’ leader.

“If we can’t locate the Cons, how are we going to rescue their prisoner?” he asked.

“For the time being, we will have to remain vigilant as we move forward. Any encounters we have with Decepticons must be approached with extreme caution. We cannot risk losing any possibility of learning the Nemesis’ location and staging a rescue.” The Autobots seemed unsure of the plan, but they all gave nods and quick words of affirmation.

“So, what? We’re just going to sit here and hope a Decepticon leaves a groundbridge open for us?” Miko said, hands on her hips. “We should go out there and make one of them take us aboard! Go in guns blazing!”

“You heard Optimus,” Bulkhead said, “We wait for an opening. There’s nothing we can do right now.” Miko scoffed and flopped down on the couch, arms crossed as she glared at the TV. Arcee rubbed at the back of her neck cables as she went to sit down on a low bench in the corner. She let out a long breath as she offlined her optics, trying to center her thoughts.

“What do you think they’re doing with her?” Her optics onlined to find Jack climbing onto the bench to sit next to her. She looked down at her servos, rubbing them together. “Are they going to interrogate her like they did when they had Fowler?”

“I don’t think so,” Arcee hummed, “I’m not the best at telling humans apart, but she seemed fairly young. Not old enough to be a government worker with Fowler’s kind of clearance.”

“So, she was just in the wrong place at the wrong time?”

“Seems so.” They were both quiet for a moment, watching Ratchet fuss over Bee while Raf hovered nearby and Miko drill Bulkhead with questions about his mission.

“Can I be honest?” Jack asked suddenly, pulling Arcee out of her own thoughts.

“Sure,” she said. Jack looked up at her, and her spark clenched slightly at the sorrowful look on his face.

“If she’s useless to them, I don’t think she’ll survive very long. They could have already killed her for all we know.” Acree wanted to assure him that they would rescue the human, but eons of war and loss kept her from saying so. Instead, she looked down at her pedes and hummed in acknowledgement.

“Maybe,” she said quietly, “but that doesn’t mean we shouldn’t still try. We won’t know whether she’s alive or not until we make the effort to rescue her.” Jack gave a short chuckle at that.

“Sorry,” he said as he waved off his smirk, “Just - we learned about something along those lines. You ever heard of Schrodinger’s cat?” Arcee blinked in confusion. Jack leaned back on his hands and began to explain the concept to her.

She was glad for the change in subject. Despite their best attempts to prove otherwise, Arcee couldn’t forget that Jack, Miko, and Raf were children. Sparklings of their species. They didn’t need to see something as gruesome as a fellow human being slaughtered. They were only slightly better with Cybertronian casualties due to the extreme differences in biology.

But as Jack went on, Arcee began to think over what he had said. If the human the Cons snatched was indeed of no use, the chances that her team would find the human alive were very slim. There was the possibility that Megatron would use the human as leverage or a bargaining chip, but there was nothing of value the Autobots had that Megatron would want.

Except the location of their base.

Or Optimus himself.

She grimaced at the thought. She couldn’t speak for the rest of her team, but if she was forced to choose between her leader and a human she didn’t even know, she wasn’t so sure she’d save the human.

Optimus would do it. She knew he would, without question.

And that scared her just as much.

 

* * *

 

Amira winced at the shriek of sawing metal and drills digging to the walls. She looked up from the datapad she’d propped up against her water bottle supply to watch the small group of Vehicons who continued to cut, weld, and drill into the wall of that little closet in the corner.

The morning following Amira’s first orders from Soundwave, the medbay was subjected to a small team of Vehicons with orders to throw together a small bit of living quarters for her. Knock Out had been furious to have so many bots walking in and out of his workspace and ‘making so much fragging noise!’ Breakdown had stopped trying to console the medic a few hours ago, leaving her alone to read her assignments and deal with Knock Out’s testy mood.

She hadn’t really understood why they were even bothering with putting together anything for her - a sentiment Knock Out shared. But when she’d asked one of the passing drones why they were going through the effort, they had only looked at her for a moment before saying in a flat tone “We were ordered to. So we obey.”

It wasn’t a very clever deflection, but Amira wasn’t going to try and push it any further. She was going to have a space for herself - no point in riling up the people who made sure it didn’t collapse under her feet.

The Vehicons were currently working on a small hole they placed next to the panel one used to open the door. She wasn’t sure what to make of it, but left it alone for now. She needed to focus. She needed to finish this reading file and start on a response.

Amira was glad in that moment that she had always been a fast reader. It was impossible to tell just how long the document Soundwave had sent her was, but given the shared grimace on both Knock Out and Breakdown’s faces, she doubted it was a simple pamphlet.

As she read though, Amira found herself immersing herself more and more into the history and culture of Cybertron. There were a lot of words she didn’t understand, much to Knock Out’s dismay. She could tell that he was getting irked about constantly defining terms for her.

‘What, you humans don’t have turbofoxes?’

‘No, I am not explaining what kibble means. Figure it out yourself.’

And her personal favorite - ‘How can you humans have functioned this long without knowing what this is?!’

The longer Amira spent around Knock Out, the more she began to enjoy his company. More specifically, the more she enjoyed pushing his buttons. Whenever she managed to irritate him to the point he began snapping at her, she would grin like a cat and say something else to set him off. It was too easy sometimes. And funny. She knew she’d caught Breakdown having to hold back a smile more than once.

That had also been something she’d been trying to figure out in the days she’d been in the medbay. Breakdown may be valued for his muscle, but his mind was fascinating too. In the short time Amira had been aboard, she had seen more than once how Breakdown managed to diffuse a situation - though almost every once pertained to Knock Out in some way.

That wasn’t to say the Wrecker didn’t have a temper. She’d seen him blow up more than once, more at an encounter with another officer or a mission gone wrong. But when he was in the medbay, it was like he left all of his baggage at the door. He still would be grumpy at times, but he did his best to not let his own emotions get in the way of his work with Knock Out.

She had tried to talk to him the previous evening, but Breakdown merely gave a vague excuse about field work before bolting out of the room. She was getting a bit annoyed at Breakdown’s continuous stubbornness, if she was being honest.

She was just starting into the chapter about the Age of Rust when the medbay doors slid open. She didn’t bother looking up, knowing it was probably just another Vehicon coming through.

“Knock Out!” cried an unfamiliar voice. The shout made Amira jump, her eyes flying up to find the mech responsible.

She was greeted with what she could only describe as the most gorgeous Cybertronian she’d ever seen.

He was taller than Knock Out, though not by much. He had a broad chest that narrowed into a small waist that then spread out into slender but powerful legs. He was all silver with accents of red, black, and white, most notably the red of a large crest on his forehead. His eyes were bright red and his jaw thinned out into a sharp chin. He had large, versatile looking wings on his back that fanned out in a way that all but demanded attention. And most notably, he had long, slender fingers that tipped into sharp claws.

Knock Out merely groaned at yet another interruption and glanced over at the new bot. “What?”

“Why is it that a fourth of the troops are not fit for duty?”

“And by not ‘fit for duty’, you mean ‘ready to step in front of a blaster to save your sorry spark’, yes?” The slender bot snarled as he took a menacing step towards Knock Out.

“You would do well to remember who you are speaking to,” he hissed. Knock Out rolled his eyes.

“Really, Starscream, I’m flattered you think so highly of my skills, but even I have limits.”

“And just why might that be?”

“Because I’m working with scraps!” Knock Out gestured towards the medbay. “I’m working with a fraction of the power I usually do, hardly any spare supplies, and the fragging rations are far too small!” He took a step towards the bot, his eyes narrowed to slits. “I can’t be expected to keep the troops functioning when we do not have the means to assist with it. I am one mech. And I am losing my patience.”

Amira blinked at Knock Out’s outburst. He seemed far more passionate than before as he stood his ground. The bot - Starscream - spluttered for a moment before resetting his shoulders and fixing a sharp glare at Knock Out.

“Be that as it may, it is your duty as Chief Medical Officer to make sure that the troops are ready for duty. By any means necessary.” They were only a breath away from each other now, twin glares affixed on each other.

The loud clang of metal coming from the supply closet broke the little standing between the two officers, drawing Starscream’s attention away from Knock Out as he grimaced at the Vehicons crowding the area.

“You there!” He pointed to one of the nearby soldiers, who turned on their heel to stand at attention. “What is the meaning of this?”

“C-Constructing quarters for the human agent, Commander.”

“Human what?” Starscream scoffed at the soldier.

“Orders from Soundwave, Commander.” Starscream huffed and turned to leave. He paused as his eyes landed on Amira. His mouth curled into a sneer of disgust as his gaze narrowed.

Amira’s eyes widened slightly as the slender mech walked over to where she sat. He stared down at her as if she was nothing more than an unsightly stain on the countertop. He held up a hand to his chin as he sneered at her before looking over at Knock Out.

“I was informed the human was a prisoner.”

“Lord Megatron decided otherwise. I’m no more happy about it than you, heir Comandante.”

Starscream looked back down at Amira and scoffed again. “And just what could you hope to offer, human?” he jeered, a malicious smirk curling the edge of his mouth.

Amira gaped at him for a moment before blurting out “Holy shit, you’re gorgeous.”

Starscream’s eyes widened a fraction and the earlier look of disgust returned. He took a step back as his shoulders bunched slightly, revulsion making him shudder. He looked back at Knock Out for some sort of explanation, only to see the medic scowling as he rubbed at the bridge between his eyes in irritation.

“Are you glitched?” he snapped at her, his wings straightening slightly.

“I’m positive she is,” Knock Out grumbled.

“Sorry, I just…” Amira trailed off as she ran her eyes over the flier’s slender form, “Wow. I didn’t think Cybertronians could look like you.”

“And just what is that supposed to mean?” he hissed.

“Can I draw you?”

“What?”

“What?!”

Amira noticed Knock Out’s indignant expression at her offer but chose to ignore it as she looked up at Starscream.

“I would love to draw you, if you’ll let me,” she said again, a small smile on her face. She noticed the small flicker of pride in Starscream’s posture. He straightened his back and held his head up a little higher, his wings giving a little flutter behind him. He studied her with disgust and intrigue. She could have sworn there was something else too, but it was gone before she could decipher it.

“I highly doubt you humans could ever hope to capture my perfect physique. Anything you could ever hope to create would just be an insult to myself and all Seekers.” He turned to glare at Knock Out again. “I expect you to find a solution for the troops’ functionality, doctor. It would do you well to not disappoint me.” Seemingly satisfied with himself, Starscream turned and strutted out of the medbay, throwing one last vicious sneer at Amira before the door shut behind him.

“Sniveling little fragger,” Knock Out hissed at the door. Amira watched the doctor as he turned that glare on her. “If you’re so eager to get squished, fleshie, there are easier ways to go about it.”

“What? I was just asking him an honest question.”

“And that’s another thing,” Knock Out placed his hands on his hips. “You’ve only been here for a mega-cycle - two at most - and the first Decepticon you ask to model for you is that flashy brat?” Amira tilted her head in confusion.

“What’s wrong with that?”

“Hello, I’m right here!” Knock Out motioned toward himself as his scowl deepened. “I happen to be the best looking mech on this ship, and probably the entire Decepticon military. If anyone deserves to be an artist’s subject, it’s me.” Amira felt a small smile begin to grow on her lips as she watched him primp and preen as he shifted from side to side.

Knock Out took note of her growing enthusiasm. “What are you smiling about?”

“Why, Knock Out, I had no idea you cared so much. Are you jealous?” Her tone was smug as she grinned at him, resting her chin on a fist. Knock Out scoffed slightly as he looked away from her.

“Jealous? Of Starscream? Never.” He smirked at her out of the corner of his eye. “I simply refuse to believe that anyone could find that slagger better looking than I.” Amira snorted slightly, her shoulders shaking slightly with the force of her laughter.

“I suppose you’re right about that,” she said as she leaned over and dug through her backpack. She pulled out her sketchbook and a pencil before looking back up at him. Knock Out glanced at the book before looking back at her. “Well? Pose for me, Doc.”

“Right now?” She shrugged as she opened the book and flipped to a blank page.

“Why not? We both need a break, and it’ll make you feel better.”

“I am not jealous.”

“Uh huh,” she purred as she glanced back up at him. “So…” Knock Out hummed before he pulled up a chair and picked up a datapad. He situated himself in the seat and held the datapad so that he wouldn’t have to move too much to use it. Amira began to draw a few rough shapes to make up his form, her smile becoming more giddy at the prospect of the challenge of drawing a Cybertronian.

“Remember to get my good side,” Knock Out purred as she began to work on the outline. She only smirked up at him.

“Shouldn’t be too hard then,” she replied before she lost herself in her work.

 

* * *

 

 

It was two more days before Amira’s makeshift quarters were finished. It had been in part due to the lack of extra tools and hands, and also due to Amira’s need to sleep. Unlike Breakdown and Knock Out, who had their own private quarters, Amira had been sleeping in the medbay. Meaning that she could never escape the cacophonous sounds of construction.

She’d had to sacrifice one of her water bottles to throw at a passing Vehicon to tell them they either needed to move her somewhere quieter or had to stop for while so she could sleep. The soldiers were happy to have an excuse to stop for a few hours, and Amira was able to get some much needed sleep. Win-win.

When the quarters themselves were finished, Amira was surprised to find that the Vehicons’ work was not. It seemed that the officers had taken her small size into consideration and had decided to install a few small walkways for her. The Vehicons had finished setting up the ones in the medbay, but apparently they had been ordered to place them all over the ship. Knock Out had been even more astonished than her, which was saying a lot.

The walkways were reinforced to the walls, leading to all of the major points in the medbay. Two of the walkways met in an x-formation near the ceiling, giving Amira the ability to cross the room without the need to be carried. She was speechless when the work in the medbay was done, and even more so when she was finally presented with her quarters.

The hole they had been drilling earlier turned out to be a door for her. On the other side was a little walkway that lead to a metal box that was welded to the side of the wall. The only way Amira could really describe the size was the equivalent of a Cybertronian shoebox. Another door was affixed to the door, along with a small switch.

Amira stepped into the box and looked around, taking it all in. There was a small cot in the corner. She could tell it was human-made given the detail. A generous light was hanging from the middle of the ceiling. She looked around for a light switch and found it next to the door. There was a small, clear container that had been turned over. She figured it must be an empty energon cube that had been transformed into a small nightstand of sorts.

In the far left corner was a blocked off section with a door. She went to investigate, and was shocked to find a small toilet and a shower stall. She knew she shouldn’t have been surprised, given the effort they’d put into everything else. The mechs had made it clear just how disgusting they found human bodily functions, especially with how often she had to ask to use the bathroom or clean herself.

But even still, she was more than surprised to see that they’d been thoughtful enough to give her a way to take care of her hygiene on her own.

There were no windows of any kind. No other furniture. She walked into the middle of the little room and looked around. It was moderately sized, given what she would be doing here and how much stuff she carried around.

This was hers.

No one else had anything like this. It had been made just for her.

Amira didn’t realize she was crying until her vision blurred with tears.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so I've never written Optimus before, so he may seem kinda off? I'm not sure. I had a hard time writing the Autobots. Writing sass is so much easier since it comes so naturally.
> 
> I made a playlist for Amira that I listen to whenever I'm writing her. Here it is! - https://soundcloud.com/geminiwishes/sets/amira  
> Enjoy! ^-^


	6. A Request

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Like what you see? Come check out my Tumblr and shoot me a message! I love hearing from you guys!
> 
> https://www.google.com/url?sa=t&source=web&rct=j&url=http://geminiwishes.tumblr.com/&ved=2ahUKEwjI2ePR0rniAhVMeawKHXCYB18QFjAAegQICBAC&usg=AOvVaw24zaMp81HoMPcDZIslJis9

Amira’s things had been moved into her quarters and the countertop where she’d been before became her work area. She finished _The Glorious History of Cybertron_ and had typed up a response for Soundwave - after probing Knock Out for specific requirements for almost an hour.

Needless to say, Amira understood why Knock Out had been surprised that she hadn’t tried to fight or run away. The Decepticons didn’t have a clean record in the war. But it could be argued that neither did the Autobots. War was war, after all. Terrible things happened on both sides. And despite what many people tried to believe, there was no good or evil when it came to war. There was only ‘us’ versus ‘them’.

She had said as much in her report to Soundwave. She wasn’t sure if she was even supposed to give her own personal thoughts on Cybertron’s history, but she felt it was necessary. And Soundwave didn’t seem to have any objections to it when he’d sent over her next assignment.

Tactical exercises were painfully dull, Amira quickly learned. Breakdown had seemed to pick up on her boredom and the build-up of energy that was making her stir crazy.

“You should just punch something. Always helps me when I’m bored,” he’d suggested as he was organizing tools for Knock Out. She’d rolled her eyes at the idea, but as the hours ticked by, it started seeming less and less ridiculous. She didn’t exactly have anything she could punch - almost everything was made of cold, solid metal - but she did have enough space in the middle of her room to move around a little.

She had dragged her datapad along the walkways towards her room, grunting with the effort. It wasn’t even that the device was heavy, she argued with herself. It was just very bulky. It had taken her a good twenty minutes to drag that damn thing into her room and another five to figure out where to set it up so she could see it.

Soundwave had hooked up the Nemesis’ network to the internet - rather reluctantly, if Knock Out was to be believed. Amira searched through a few articles and videos before finding a workout routine that wasn’t too difficult.

She decided soon after that she was grateful to have thought to work out in her quarters where no one could see her. The routine in the video was a simple one, but Amira found herself struggling to keep up after the first few minutes. She told herself that she couldn’t expect to be in the best shape right away - not after going so long with barely enough food or energy to stay alive. But even still, the humiliation of it all weighed heavily on her slightly-too-small shoulders.

She started adding a daily workout to her self-made schedule, which was starting to come together quite nicely, if she said so herself. She woke up at a decent time, did a small workout, showered, ate one of the snacks she’d been brought, and went out into the medbay to begin her work for the day.

Along with tactical lessons, Soundwave had ordered Amira to begin working on a coding program. Surprisingly, it was an Earth-based curriculum. The program stated that it worked as a sort of boot camp. For eight hours every day for six weeks, you did nothing but code. By the end of the program, you were supposed to be well-versed in all the major languages programmers used. It put both a physical and mental strain on her to stare at a screen for so long, but she pushed through it as best she could. The desire to earn her keep grew with each passing day.

It had been two weeks now since Amira’s initial capture. The conditions on the ship had gotten even worse. The next shipment was due to dock soon, but the Cons had reservations about the ship’s arrival. From what Amira had managed to gather, the last shipment had supposedly disappeared without a trace. No word from the crew, no distress signal from the ship itself - not even so much as a report of a crash site.

It was as if the ship had simply vanished into thin air.

Starscream had let it slip just how nervous it made him the last time he’d come in for a routine check up with Knock Out. Megatron was apparently more irritated than usual, though his anger stemmed from the disappearance of the shipment rather than the lack of supplies. He’d had Soundwave working on it for days now, but to no avail.

The crew had begun to spread stories and theories as to what had become of the supposed ghost ship and its crew. Rumors of something called Cybonic plague and pirates began to circulate through the halls, finding their way into the medbay whenever two or more Vehicons were being treated. It had cast a shadow of unease over the ship.

Amira was absolutely thrilled.

These metal titans were more advanced than her species could ever hope to be. They had better technology, more complicated biology, and an overall better understanding of the world around them. They were better than the human race in every way.

And they were scared of ghosts? Amira had to keep from snorting with laughter at the thought. It was the alien equivalent to an elephant being scared of a field mouse. Despite her own thoughts, she knew to keep it to herself for the time being. Her place here was still very shaky, and she doubted that openly mocking soldiers would win her any favors.

 

One morning, after she’d gone through her morning routine and had started on her coding lessons for the day, Breakdown had slumped into the medbay. His footsteps were heavier than normal as he moved to the computer station and typed something in. A datapad slid out of a compartment and he picked it up before leaning back against a wall. She watched as he reached back behind his head and pulled out a cube of energon. He mindlessly scrolled through the text on the datapad as he took a few sips of the cube.

“What does that taste like?” Breakdown paused and looked up at her. He frowned slightly.

“What?”

“That,” she said as she motioned to the cube in his hand.

“What, energon?”

“No, the datapad,” she deadpanned. Breakdown sneered slightly as his grip tightened on the cube. “You guys came to this planet for the stuff. It’s your food. I was just curious if it was any good.” He snorted slightly as he walked over to her spot on the countertop and set the cube down in front of her.

“Try it and see, fleshie.” He looked rather amused with himself, grinning like he’d just thought of something very clever.

“Knock Out already told me it’s toxic to humans. You’ll have to try harder than that if you want to kill me,” she hummed as she looked back down at her datapad, acting as if she’d lost all interest in her earlier question. She’d expected for him to threaten to squish her or toss her off the ship or something of that caliber.

Instead, she heard a low chuckle. She was taken aback slightly as she looked up at the hulking blue mech, finding a small smirk on his burnt orange face. He leaned forward, invading her personal space just enough to make her straighten her spine.

“I think I’m startin’ to see why Doc Knock’s taken a liking to you.” Amira barked a laugh at that. Breakdown’s smirk faded slightly as he looked at her with confusion.

“Knock Out? Like me?” she snickered. “When he gets in here, you’d better ask him to check your processor, big guy.” Breakdown snorted at that as he snatched up the energon cube and gulped down the rest before setting it back into the little compartment in the nearby wall that whisked away the empty cubes for recycling.

“For once, I’m being honest. You’ve grown on the mech.” Amira rolled her eyes before affixing an unimpressed glace at the Wrecker.

“You do realize that every interaction we’ve had since I’ve been here has been composed of insults, threats, and a shit ton of sarcasm, right?”

“Yup. He’s startin’ to like you.”

“And just how do you know he doesn’t hate me?”

“Because I know the doc better than anyone else,” he retorted as he sat down in a nearby chair. “And because he hasn’t tried to cut you up.”

Every once in a while, one of the Decepticons would say or do something that made Amira hesitate for a moment. A tiny voice in her head would scream at her to be afraid, to run and hide or fight off whoever came near her. But she was well versed in suppressing those feelings and impulses. She took a deep breath and held it for a five count before slowly letting it out.

“Well, I can appreciate his self-control,” she hummed. She read through another page of text before looking up at him again. “Is there any particular reason you’re telling me this?” Breakdown shrugged as he stretched out in his seat.

“This mess about supplies has really taken a toll on the doc. But ever since you got here, he’s had something to distract him.” Amira hummed in thought. She supposed she could understand that. Breakdown sat up slightly as he stared at nothing for a moment. “Right away, my Lord,” he said as he stood up and stretched his arms up over his head.

“Are you going to the bridge?” she asked.

“Yes. Not that it’s any of your business, fleshie.”

“Amira,” she enunciated.

“Fleshie,” he replied. She scowled at him and held up her hand in a vulgar gesture. Breakdown only snorted with amusement as he set the datapad aside and made his way to the exit. The door slid open, revealing Knock Out holding a half-drained energon cube.

“And where are you off to?” the mech asked as he slid past his partner and into the medbay.

“Got orders to report to Soundwave,” Breakdown said as he watched Knock Out pick up the discarded datapad and scroll through it. “S’a bit early for high grade, don’t you think?” Knock Out glanced over his shoulder at Breakdown, scowling slightly. He maintained eye contact as he brought the cube up to his lips and downed the rest in two gulps. Breakdown rolled his eyes and left without another word.

Amira huffed with amusement at the display before turning her attention to the medic. “Morning, Knocky-poo,” she purred. Her smirk widened as she watched him stiffen slightly at the pet name. He turned fully to glare at her, and if looks could kill, she knew she’d be dead where she stood.

“Normally, I’d gladly separate your head from your shoulders for calling me such a thing, but since it’s still early and I am not fully functional yet, I will give you the opportunity to correct yourself,” he hissed.

“Not much of a morning person, are you?” she hummed, receiving only a warning growl in return. “Good morning, Knock Out.” The medic gave a ‘tsk’ of irritation before scrolling through the datapad again. Amira waited for him to speak again, but when he didn’t she decided to focus on her own work.

 

* * *

 

 

Amira was concentrating on a particularly frustrating coding exercise when the distant thundering of metal on metal grew closer and closer. She was just about to ask Knock Out what the hell that noise was when the medbay door burst open and Breakdown came barreling in. She jumped slightly as he stormed past her and began shoving aside large crates.

“I am trying to concentrate, Breakdown!” Knock Out snapped as he slammed down his datapad on the table next to him. “What are you doing running around like a madbot?”

“We just received word that the shipment has arrived,” Breakdown grunted, not stopping as he stacked three crates on top of one another before picking them up with ease and setting them aside. Knock Out’s eyes widened slightly.

“What?”

“Soundwave got the transmission a few klicks ago. They already got a few crates unloaded and I’m gonna go help ‘em after I make room for our stuff.” Amira could have sworn she saw the tires mounted on Knock Out’s back spin at the news. The medic was grinning like a maniac as he too set about preparing the lab. He shot a glance in her direction as he passed her.

“I hope you know that the closet your quarters are in will continue its usage as storage space.” He sounded as if he was being smug, but Amira knew better than to take the bait.

“I doubted you would give all that room up for little ol’ me.” Knock Out only hummed in reply as he pushed an empty set of beakers aside.

 

* * *

 

Over the next few hours, the Nemesis seemed to come alive - Vehicons running up and down the hallways with containers either in arms or on dollies. Everyone was relieved to have a surplus of resources once more, as Amira noted by the eager chatting between soldiers as they walked past the medbay’s entrance. She glanced over at the far corner of the room, where Knock Out was busily counting crates stacked high with all kinds of medical supplies.

She briefly wondered where in the world all that supplies was supposed to go, when she remembered something.

Earlier that week, when she’d been preparing for bed, she’d started taking note of her lack of proper supplies. Things like a toothbrush, deodorant, and extra clothes. There were other, more trivial things that she wanted too - a mirror, actual bed sheets, maybe a lamp. She sat back in her seat on the countertop as she mulled over her thoughts.

The Decepticons had been fretting over their lack of supplies for weeks now. And since they were obviously elated to have their stockpiles replenished, they were all in much better moods. 

And more susceptible to suggestion.

Amira closed out the window of her coding program and pulled up a blank document. She began to type out a message, making sure to sound as professional and urgent as possible. She saved the draft before opening another document and beginning to make a list. She worked quickly and quietly - though it wasn’t difficult with how boisterous both Breakdown and Knock Out were being.

An hour later, Amira finished her list and attached it to the drafted message. She read over it again, trying to picture how it would sound to an alien officer. When she found no flaws, she saved it to the datapad.

She knew that she couldn’t send it right that moment with everyone still in a frenzy, so she decided to wait until that evening, near the end of the work shifts. When her message was received, soldiers would be tired and ready to indulge in an extra ration before bed. Meaning that the chance her request would be approved would be higher. She had to repress a smile as she went back to her coding lesson, proud of her ingenuity.

 

* * *

 

Amira tied her still damp hair up in a ponytail as she exited her little box and walked the short distance to the door that lead out into the medbay. Knock Out and Breakdown had left a few hours ago to gather their rations and head to their own quarters, leaving her alone.

She’d sent her request to Soundwave an hour or so before she’d called it a night and gotten ready for bed. She’d eaten another bag of chips and a granola bar with a bottle of water, showered, changed into a large t-shirt and shorts she used for pajamas, and spent some time working in her sketchbook.

She had been touching up a few details on a sketch of Breakdown when she’d had the urge to check her inbox for a reply. It had been a few hours now since quiet hours had started, so it was fair to assume that Soundwave had read her message and either approved or denied it. The aspect of possible approval had Amira pulling on her shoes and heading to check her datapad, which still lay on her little workstation.

Amira pressed her hand to the little scanner next to the door and walked out into the medbay. She turned down her little walkway to reach her workstation when her eye caught on something else.

The light above the main berth was dimmed but still on, illuminating who she instantly recognized as Breakdown. He was hunched over the berth, legs planted on the ground and spread slightly, revealing a familiar pair of racer red legs. Knock Out made a noise beneath Breakdown, and Amira could have sworn it was a giggle. They were speaking in hushed tones as Knock Out shifted on the berth. She watched as a clawed hand came up to wrap around the broad expanse of Breakdown’s shoulder.

Breakdown said something with obvious amusement that made Knock Out snort. She heard what could only be the rev of an engine as Knock Out moved to wrap both arms around Breakdown’s neck, pulling him closer.

Amira didn’t need to see anymore. She silently turned on her heel and made a hasty retreat back through the door and into her quarters. She kicked off her shoes and ran a hand through her hair, working through her thoughts.

It didn’t take a genius to know just what the medic and his assistant had been doing. Even if they were giant alien robots, Amira recognized what that sort of closeness meant.

Well, all that banter makes sense now. Especially now that she knew that it wasn’t just banter, but flirting. And of course they had to come back to the medbay to get in a quickie. They couldn’t _possibly_ go to their own damn quarters, to one of their _own_ damn beds. No, they had to waltz into the medbay - when they _knew_ she was in here - and play their own personal game of doctor.

She grimaced as she flopped down onto her bed. Great. Now she’d have to wait until tomorrow morning to look through her inbox. Just perfect.

 

* * *

 

Knock Out was already working on something when Amira came out of her quarters and made her way over to her little workstation. She didn’t acknowledge him as she settled herself down and unlocked her datapad, opening up her inbox. She was relieved to find a new message from Soundwave waiting for her. She opened the message and read through the response. Her smile slowly fell as she finished reading.

Soundwave had approved her request, but the matter in how the request would be filled surprised her. She closed out the response and pulled up the original message she had sent the night before.

‘ _To whom it may concern, I am writing to make a request regarding my current living situation. I am experiencing a shortage of my own supplies. There are also many other things that I require in order to keep myself healthy and well-rested, so that I may better serve the Decepticon cause. I have attached a list of these required items, along with their purpose. I have also included a list of additional items I would enjoy having as well._

 _Thank you for your time._ ’

It was short and to the point. Amira had no idea how to write out a request for a military officer; it was vastly different from submitting responses to assigned reading and other assignments. She was shocked that Soundwave had approved the request. The entire request. She’d only added on the last line because she had believed that there was a higher chance the request would be approved if they still felt that they were denying her something. She’d been subjected to that more than enough times by now that she’d come to expect it.

Which was why she was so surprised that she was being granted everything she wanted. She frowned as she scanned through Soundwave’s response for a miscommunication or a catch of some kind. There was no reason they would allow her to just have all of the things she’d asked for - even with how happy they all were with the arrival of their own supplies.

Something was going on here. Either they were putting a lot of faith in her ability to help their cause - which she highly doubted - or there was an ulterior motive. But what? What could these beings possibly gain by catering to her needs like this?

Amira looked up from her datapad at Knock Out, who was taking a break from whatever work he’d been doing to sharpen his fingers with a file.

“Can you take me to the bridge?” Knock Out paused, turning his attention towards her as he rose a brow.

“Why in the world would you want to go there?”

“That’s where Soundwave is, right?” She shifted in her seat to sit up straighter. “I need to talk to him.”

“You can’t just seek out a commanding officer whenever you feel like it, fleshie. We have regulations for that sort of thing.” He waved a hand in dismissal. “Besides, if you want to talk to Soundwave, you can just send him a message with the ship’s network.”

“I can’t just send him a note about this,” she replied, frowning as she did her best to put on a commanding expression. “I need to speak to him in person.”

“I told you already, you can’t just-”

“Why not? Starscream has no problem coming in here and bothering you whenever he feels like it.”

“Starscream is this ship’s Air Commander and Megatron’s second-in-command. The only one he answers to is Megatron. You, on the other hand, do not hold such ranking here. You are in no position to demand anything. And don’t think that just because Megatron has a strange fascination with you, that you hold any sort of authority over me.” Amira simply glared at him after that. Knock Out smirked, allowing himself to be smug over his small victory as he went back to filing his digits.

“Fine,” she snapped suddenly, turning away from him. “I’ll just message him then.” Knock Out rolled his eyes with annoyance at her insistence to continue to speak. “Say, do you think I should ask Soundwave about regulations involving using medical equipment for personal use? I have to turn in an assignment today, and I was wondering what rules the Decepticons have about fornicating on military property.”

Amira didn’t bother to hide her smirk as Knock Out stilled, his eyes widening slightly before they fell on her. She simply tilted her head in a show of innocent curiosity as she sat before her datapad. He sneered slightly as his free hand closed into a fist.

“I thought I heard a little rat crawling about last night,” he hissed as he flexed his fingers, displaying those sharpened claws. Amira only shrugged.

“I’d explain the concept of putting a sock on the door handle, but I’m pretty sure it would be lost on you.” Her tone was smug as she watched the medic try and calculate a response.

“So, it’s blackmail, is it?” he hummed as he set the file aside and crossed his arms. He leaned back in his seat as he glared at her.

“Oh, don’t think of it as blackmail,” Amira tittered, that smirk only growing wider. “Think of it as… insurance? That’s sounds so much nicer, don’t you think?” She and the medic held eye contact for a good minute or two before Knock Out’s mouth twitched slightly with a small smile.

“Now you’re thinking like a Decepticon.” The words shouldn’t have sparked any kind of reaction out of her, but despite herself, Amira found herself puffing up slightly with pride. Her grin widened, showing off her teeth.

“If it helps, you won’t have to do this again, most likely. They’re getting close to being done with those walkways for me. Then I can walk myself to the bridge without any help.” Knock Out didn’t respond as he stood from his seat and moved towards her.

“I don’t suppose there’s any chance you’d consider holding this off until later?” Her determined expression was answer enough. He held out a hand to her and she eagerly climbed into his awaiting palm. She situated herself in his hold and looked up at him in approval as she wrapped a hand around one of his fingers. Knock Out lifted her up and carried her out of the medbay.

Over time, Amira had grown accustomed to the feeling of being picked up. She still had the feeling of her stomach dropping into her toes, but she no longer had the fear that they would let her fall at any moment. She had grown much more comfortable in their hands, going so far as to swing her legs as Knock Out turned another corner towards the bridge.

When they entered the bridge, Amira noticed that Megatron was nowhere to be found. There were fewer Vehicons than usual, but they all moved about like normal. And in the right corner, standing in front of a large monitor, was Soundwave. She squeezed Knock Out’s finger as she was carried over to him. When Knock Out stopped behind the communications officer, Amira got to her feet before clearing her throat.

“Soundwave,” she said, fighting to keep her tone even, “I need to speak with you.” The mech didn’t acknowledge her presence as he continued to work on whatever was on the screen in front of him. She frowned slightly and looked back at Knock Out. He only smirked as if to say ‘I told you so.’ She scowled before looking back at Soundwave. She eyed the small slab of the workstation he was standing at before setting her expression with determination.

Without giving Knock Out any warning, Amira leaned back slightly before jumping forward, launching herself towards that counter top. She managed to catch the edge and struggled to pull herself up, no thanks to Knock Out, who only watched her with amusement. She gave herself a mental high five for doing those workouts - there was no way she would have been able to do that two weeks ago. She got to her feet and stood up straight, staring up at Soundwave as if doing so would draw his attention to her.

“Soundwave, I need to ask about the request I sent.” Soundwave finished typing something else on the screen in front of him before his head tilted down towards her. She could see her reflection in his visor and tried not to grimace at how small she looked. “You approved the request, but I don’t understand what you mean by ‘retrieve them yourself?’” There was a pause as a reading of some kind appeared on his visor.

There was a small trill noise before Amira heard “Retrieve them yourself.” It was unmistakably her own voice being played back to her. She didn’t know Soundwave could do that. She tried again.

“What do you mean by that? I don’t exactly have the means to do that. I don’t have a way off the ship, or a plan to either steal or buy anything.” She crossed her arms and did her best to look annoyed as Soundwave - damn him - kept staring at her like she was stupid. There was another soft trill before he played back a few bits of audio he had hurriedly stitched together.

“You will be _zzt_ prr-ovided with _zzt_ funds. Retrieve them yourself.” Her frown only grew. How the hell did he plan to pay for her things? She doubted these bots had taken the time to set up a bank account with anyone. Or even knew how Earth currency worked. She was about to argue further when Soundwave reached over his head and pulled out something small and black. He handed it to her and looked at her expectantly.

She inspected the thing in her hands and realized it was a handbag. She wanted to ask where he had gotten it, but she knew he wouldn’t answer her. She unzipped the top and looked inside. Bits of crumpled up receipts, a handful of peppermints, a tube of chapstick, and a worn looking brown wallet greeted her.

‘Did he steal some old lady’s purse?’ she wondered as she opened up the wallet. The ID showed an older woman with silver hair and wrinkles around her eyes and mouth. It said she was fifty-three and her name was Gina Ramirez. The wallet had a few cards inside - a debit card, a few gift cards, and a library card. She checked for cash and found a twenty and three ones. There wasn’t any change in the wallet but she spied a few loose pennies and dimes at the bottom of the bag.

“I don’t think this card will work,” she said as she pulled out the debit card and showed it to Soundwave. “Unless you took this recently, she probably froze the card so it can’t access her account.” That same red scanner ran over the card for a moment before Soundwave stitched together a response.

“-card will work,” he parroted back, once again using her own voice. She briefly wondered if he was always recording everything.

“Did you not hear me?” she huffed. Soundwave only looked up at Knock Out as something flashed across his visor. Knock Out scoffed with offense as he scowled.

“You can’t be serious,” he complained. “Why not just send a drone?” Something else flashed on Soundwave’s visor and Amira gathered that they were communicating through their inner comms. She was getting really annoyed about those. Knock Out groaned as he threw his head back, his shoulders sagging slightly with displeasure. He scowled down at Amira before reaching down and picking her up.

“Watch it!” she snapped, tightening her grip on the bag as she tried to adjust in his hold.

“Shut up,” he said as he stormed out of the bridge.

“I wasn’t done talking to him!” she retorted as she fought against the tight hold Knock Out had on her. “Why did you take me away?!”

“What in Primus’ name did you ask him for?” Knock Out demanded as he brought her up to his face. She was eye to eye with him now, and there was no hiding from the malice in his stare. She glared back at him.

“I need supplies. You guys just got yours, so why shouldn’t I get mine?”

“Bullscrap!” he hissed as they turned a corner. “Soundwave is ordering ME to go with you on your little scavenging excursion! As if I’m some common foot soldier! The only way he could possibly believe that my time is better spend babysitting a grub is if you were given another task.” Amira only met his glare with equal malice.

“I don’t know. Maybe you’re just that shitty of a doctor.” Knock Out’s grip on her tightened and she couldn’t stop the weak gasp that escaped her as her ribs were squeezed. Knock Out had stopped in the middle of the hallway, his eyes locked on her as his hold grew tighter and tighter. She fought for breath as her lungs were deprived of oxygen.

“You seem to be forgetting what I said earlier about keeping your fragging noise hole shut,” he hissed. His tone was calm, but laced with ill-intent. She fought to meet his eyes as she tried to take a breath. She could feel her head getting fuzzy and her limbs getting heavier. Knock Out brought her closer to his face.

“Do you know how easy it would be to squish you? You fleshies are so delicate that it wouldn’t take much. I’m hardly even trying and you’re already changing colors.” She didn’t doubt it. Her head was aching and the corners of her vision were starting to get patchy. She needed air. She tried to say something, but all that came out was an undignified squeak. The smile on Knock Out’s face made her want to punch him.

“Doc?” Knock Out’s smile disappeared at Breakdown’s appearance. His grip loosened on Amira and she sucked in precious oxygen. She coughed as she fought to keep from throwing up. The pain in her head increased, and she felt like hundreds of little needles were poking around the inside of her skull. Her sides ached every time she took a breath. She knew her ribs were bruised, if not broken. She tried to hear what Breakdown was saying, but the thumping of her heartbeat drowned out any other noise.

It was almost like she’d been placed inside a glass dome. Everything sounded muffled. Everything felt heavy.

Without even realizing it, Amira’s eyes rolled back into her head and she slipped into unconsciousness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had a lot more planned for this chapter, but I looked at the word count and realized it would run way too long! So yay, a sort of cliffhanger!
> 
> I made a playlist for Amira that I listen to whenever I'm writing her. Here it is! - https://soundcloud.com/geminiwishes/sets/amira  
> Enjoy! ^-^


	7. Sidelines

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Like what you see? Come check out my Tumblr and shoot me a message! I love hearing from you guys!
> 
> https://www.google.com/url?sa=t&source=web&rct=j&url=http://geminiwishes.tumblr.com/&ved=2ahUKEwjI2ePR0rniAhVMeawKHXCYB18QFjAAegQICBAC&usg=AOvVaw24zaMp81HoMPcDZIslJis9

The first thing Amira noticed when she woke up was just how loud the Nemesis was. Despite how quiet everyone was as they moved about to complete tasks, the sounds of the engines, the ventilations, and the hum of the lights was deafening. The next thing she noticed was how much it hurt to take deep breaths. She slowly blinked open her eyes and looked around.

She was back in the medbay, but she wasn’t on her usual countertop. Someone had put her on a low shelf that didn’t have access to her walkways. She could feel the soft fabric of a thin blanket underneath her as she tried to decipher what had happened.

As if in answer, the entrance to the medbay opened and Knock Out casually strolled in, picking at something that was in his grill. Anger began to bubble in her stomach as she watched him check something on the main computer, quietly humming to himself. She clenched her teeth and felt her brows knit together in a glare.

Knock Out seemed to sense her fierce look, turning to glance at her over his shoulder.

“I was wondering how much longer you’d be offline. Really, I’m still astounded as to why you could possibly have that kind of reaction in the first place. I didn’t break anything.” Amira wasn’t sure what to call the sound she made in response, but if she had to guess, she would say it was a mixture between a growl and a snort.

“You’re a real bastard - you know that?” she snapped as she sat up, fighting away the dizzy spell that threatened to take over.

“Oh, please. You’re still perfectly functional.”

“Really? You know enough about human biology to back that statement up?” Knock Out’s answering scoff was answer enough. “You were _suffocating_ me. I could have died! Or gotten permanent brain damage!” Knock Out’s small smirk only infuriated her further.

“Given how quick you are to keep screeching like the little monkey you are, I’d say you’re in no danger of that.”

**_Was he serious?_ **

Amira knew she was shaking now, but she couldn’t find it in herself to give a shit. She was too upset - both at Knock Out and at herself. Why the hell had she provoked him so much? Did she think that just because Breakdown had mentioned that Knock Out might be starting to like her that she had a free pass to poke at him as much as she wanted? She was rarely ever so mouthy with people who held so much power over her freedom and safety. That wasn’t any excuse for what he’d done, though. He hadn’t even tried to deny that he’d done it on purpose!

She decided that Breakdown really was glitched. No way did this egotistical narcissist of a mech give a shit about her.

Before she could think up an adequate response, Breakdown entered the medbay with his arms full with packets that Amira had learned were full of sterilized tools.

“Set them over there,” Knock Out hummed as he waved over to an empty counter. Breakdown obediently carried the equipment over and set them down, making sure none of them spilled onto the floor. He turned to look at Knock Out once he was satisfied with his work.

“You refuel yet?” he asked.

“I had a cube half a cycle ago. You go ahead.” Knock Out didn’t look away from the screen as he said it. Breakdown watched him for a moment before shrugging slightly and turning to leave. Amira straightened up in her spot before she could give it any thought.

“Can I come?” Breakdown paused and turned to glance at her with a frown. Amira pushed down the embarrassment at how pathetic she sounded and went on. “I don’t want to be in here right now. Wherever you’re going, take me with you.” Breakdown’s eyes narrowed slightly and Amira felt a knot forming in her stomach. “...Please.”

Breakdown was quiet as he watched her for a moment. Amira was already trying to think up something else to say when the mech silently walked over to the little shelf she was perched on and held out a hand for her. Relief flooded her and she eagerly crawled into the offered palm. Breakdown brought her up next to his shoulder and she hesitantly slid out of his grip, landing on the large expanse of his shoulder.

“M’takin’ the grub,” Breakdown called out to Knock Out as he left the medbay.

Amira didn’t have much to hold onto, and she doubted Breakdown would appreciate her holding onto the side of his head. So she sat down on his shoulder and hung her legs off the edge to hold herself in place. Neither of them spoke as Breakdown treaded down the hallways, purpose in his steps.

“Thank you,” she finally said quietly as Breakdown made another turn. Breakdown only grunted in response as he kept walking. She shifted on his shoulder for a moment. Unsure of what else to say, she asked, “Where are we going?”

“Mess hall,” Breakdown said. He passed through a set of doors that lead to another hallway. At the end, there was an open doorway with a few Vehicons standing around. They were talking amongst themselves, laughing and enjoying their energon cubes. Amira was intrigued at the sight. She’d never seen the Vehicons acting so casually. They would sometimes joke with each other whenever there weren’t any officers around, but most of the time, they were silent and at attention.

“Should I be worried about someone squishing me?” She did her best to sound as nonchalant as she could.

“You’re with me - they won’t touch you,” he said as he neared the end of the hall. “Though, I don’t think they’d hurt you.”

Amira frowned, uncertain as to why that would be. “What do you mean?”

“You talk to ‘em. You actually listen to what they have to say, and you’re polite to ‘em. Most officers treat the Vehicons like scrap. Nothin’ more than mindless drones and cannon fodder.” Amira wasn’t sure what to say to that, and before she could try to think of something, Breakdown entered the mess hall.

The room was spacious, but you wouldn’t be able to tell with how many Vehicons filled it. Countless soldiers sat at tables, stood against the walls, and gathered around the communal energon dispensers. Amira looked around the cramped cafeteria as Breakdown made his way to the nearest energon dispenser. A group of Vehicons standing next to the dispenser looked up as they neared. She expected them to cower and scurry away the way they did whenever Knock Out or Starscream neared, but to her surprise, they only greeted Breakdown with merriment.

“Hey, Breakdown! You off shift?” one of the soldiers asked as Breakdown put in his personal code to receive his ration. “A few of us are thinking about having another one of those vid marathons.”

The rest of them seemed eager to speak with Breakdown, but Amira noticed their glances her way. They were wary of her, unsure if it was safe to talk so openly around her. Amira had to fight the small smirk at the knowledge that she made them nervous.

Breakdown only chuckled before saying “Yeah, I’m off for the next eight cycles. But I can’t join you. I gotta refuel and recharge. Got a mission tomorrow and I need all the energy I can get.” The group sagged slightly in disappointment before one of them picked the conversation back up with a story about a minor accident during a mining shift.

The attention shifted off of Breakdown and he took the opportunity to slip away. He walked around for a minute before finding an isolated table. He sat down on the stool, settling onto it as it creaked with strain. Amira frowned as she looked back at the group.

“Don’t you usually like to go back to the medbay to refuel?” she asked as he took a mouthful of energon. “You never struck me as the most sociable bot.”

Breakdown swallowed before holding the cube away from his mouth. "Normally, yeah, I do. But you made it clear that you don’t wanna be in the medbay right now.” She stared at him for a moment, blinking with surprise.

He was… He was staying away from the medbay for her? She shifted herself to turn slightly to make better eye contact with him.

“I, uh… thank you,” she stammered, unsure what else to say. She hadn’t expected him to notice how she was behaving, or care why. He took another sip of his energon, not pushing the matter any further.

She was grateful for that as she watched more of the Vehicons as they enjoyed their down time. There were a few that seemed to circle their table, hesitant to approach Breakdown. She couldn’t help but wonder if that was because of her.

As if he had read her thoughts, Breakdown said “They aren’t trying to talk to me.” She glanced at him in a silent request to elaborate. “They’re trying to figure you out. See if they should be careful around Megatron’s little pet project.”

“Do you think they should be afraid of me?”

Breakdown only shrugged. "Nah. I get why a lot of officers use fear as a motivator, but I’ve had my aft covered more than once because I actually talk to ‘em.”

That made sense, Amira supposed. But if she wanted to earn their trust, she’d have to be sociable. And she had never been too keen about that in the past. She fought back a grimace as she mentally prepared herself to put on the show that was no doubt expected of her.

Looking around for a moment, she caught one of the nearby Vehicons’ eye. She gave a small, shy smile and even a little wave to really sell it. The Vehicon paused as they watched her for a moment before tilting their head slightly. She wondered for a moment if that had been too much when the Vehicon straightened and cautiously neared their table, fiddling with the cube of energon in one of their hands. She leaned forward in her perch and looked up at the soldier with what she hoped was a look of awe.

“Hi,” she said softly, not taking her eyes off of them. The Vehicon was quiet as they studied her, seeming to be silently debating something. After a moment, the Vehicon lifted a hand in a sign of greeting. “Do you wanna sit?”

The Vehicon looked to Breakdown for permission this time, receiving an indistinct grunt before sliding into the seat across the table. Amira tried to think up what to say next as she and the Vehicon stared at each other.

After a moment, she gently nudged Breakdown as she scooted down the side of his shoulder.

“A little help?” she asked as she motioned down to the table. Breakdown rolled his eyes as he reached up and picked her up around her middle. He set her down on the tabletop before going back to enjoying his ration. Amira looked up at him in silent thanks before turning back towards the Vehicons, who was now staring down at her, the red light of their visor pulsing oddly. She took slow, meticulous step towards the soldier, stuffing her hands into her hoodie pockets to keep from wringing them.

“I’m uh, I’m Amira.” She wasn’t sure if holding out her hand for a handshake would be appropriate, so she kept her hands hidden. The Vehicon made no move towards her and said nothing. She tried again. “I’m apparently going to be working on the ship, so I thought I should - you know - introduce myself?” Nothing. The Vehicon simply stared at her like one would stare at an ant that was crawling along a picnic table. She shifted in place and fixed her stance to seem smaller. If they felt like she was no threat, maybe they would speak to her.

Breakdown snorted at the change in her posture and hid it behind another mouthful of energon. She fought the urge to glare at him over her shoulder.

“What are you doing?”

She was surprised by the Vehicon’s higher pitch. She quickly hid the surprise and replaced it with confusion.

“What?” she asked.

“You’re acting like a weak little human. I already know what you’re really like. The only thing that act is going to do is make more of us wonder why no one has squished you yet.” Her frown deepened as her confusion became more genuine.

“How do you know I’m acting?”

“I told you - I know what you're like. I was assigned to retrieve your fuel supplies about a deca-cycle ago.”

Recognition came easily as she remembered the Vehicon that Knock Out had ordered to retrieve her food and water. This was the same one who was ordered to bring Amira to that emergency wash rack to clean herself afterwards. She tried to push the embarrassment of that incident aside as she searched the Vehicon for any kind of emotion.

“Sorry, I’m still trying to figure out how to tell you all apart.”

“You should quit while you’re ahead, then. We all share the same frame type. The only way you could ever tell us apart is with our EM fields.”

EM fields? Amira felt like she’d heard the word before, but she couldn’t place it. She sat down, crossing her legs before returning to their conversation.

“So, what’s your name?” It was impossible to understand what the Vehicons were feeling when they didn’t have a way to emote. They didn’t give off too much body language either, much to her chagrin.

“My designation is M-4667,” they replied before bringing the energon cube up to where a mouth would be. She watched with mild fascination as a small tube extended from behind the metal faceplate and drank up the fuel. They set the now empty cube down before looking down at her again.

“And what do the others call you?”

“I don’t understand.”

“Oh, come on. I know you guys give each other nicknames. I’ve heard you guys use them whenever you think no one is listening.” She could thank the lessons she’d been taking about surveillance and the plethora of injured Vehicons who came into the medbay for that.

She heard Breakdown snort at that before saying to the Vehicon “You’re better off just telling ‘em. Primus knows the little grub won’t stop squealing about it until you do.”

“I’m starting to think you guys don’t know what squealing actually sounds like,” she snapped as she looked back at the Wrecker.

“I am called Margaret.”

“Margaret?” She’d heard some of the Vehicons adopt human names - especially one named Steve who had earned a reputation among the crew for some reason. But still - hearing this huge, powerful alien use a name as simple and non-threatening as Margaret was off putting. She had to bite the inside of her cheek to keep from smiling. “Uh, any particular reason you picked that one?”

“I did not select it. None of us pick our own designation. It is decided by your platoon.” Well, that was an interesting little tidbit.

“So, did your platoon tell you why they chose that name?” Margaret tilted their head from side to side in a gesture of uncertainty.

“I was told it had to do with a human politician who made quite a reputation for themself. I am second in my platoon, and so I was given a designation that reflected my position in the rankings.”

“I… suppose that makes sense.” It really didn’t, if Amira was being honest with herself. Margaret Thatcher - if that was indeed who they were talking about - wasn’t a measly second-in-command of a common platoon. She wondered if the Vehicons had known just how influential her position had been when she’d been Prime Minister. She doubted the higher-ups would have approved of such a nickname if they knew the history behind that particular name.

“How familiar are you with your planet’s ecosystems?”

Her head shot up, surprised by the question. “Erm, I know a little bit. What did you want to know?”

“I recently had a mission that required investigating a cave system near a cliffside that faced your ocean.”

“Okay?”

“I had asked for the name it, and was told it is called the Atlantic Ocean. But I had heard from another squadron that they had gone on a mission near an ocean called the Pacific.”

Amira was quiet as she listened, but when Margaret had fallen silent, she realized they expected her to answer. “I’m not sure what it is you want to know.”

Margaret leaned forward a bit before answering. “I want to know why you named the same body of water two different things. Is it part of your culture?”

Amira wasn’t sure what was more surprising - the fact that this Cybertronian cared about Earth’s geography or that she actually knew the answer.

“Well, yes and no. The oceans are named different things for a few reasons. The territories that they surround do have some say in what they’re called, but it also has to do with the way the currents work and the wildlife that lives in them. There are species of fish that can live in the Indian Ocean but couldn’t survive in the Arctic Ocean, for example.”

Margaret seemed to take a moment to process the information before nodding.

“Tell me then, why do you call parts of your oceans ‘seas’?”

 

* * *

 

Amira was divided between annoyance and relief when Breakdown finally decided to leave, bringing her and Margaret’s conversation to an end. They had spent the better part of an hour talking about the ocean - though Amira had done most of the talk while Margaret had thrown in the occasional question. It had been a bit harder than Amira wanted to admit to answer some of their questions, but Margaret had been satisfied with any information she could give them.

She had waved goodbye to Margaret when Breakdown had set her back onto his shoulder and stood to leave. She felt herself smile slightly as Margaret held up a hand in farewell.

“You seemed to have made a new friend,” Breakdown said once they had left the mess hall. Amira glanced towards him and tilted her head with a grin.

“Jealous?” she teased. He snorted in answer.

“Hardly. Maybe they’ll ask to be your keeper and you can finally leave me the frag alone.” Amira patted the plating of his huge shoulder with an open palm.

“Aw, I’m sure you’d miss my pretty smile and sparkling personality,” she purred, deflecting the jab with ease. Breakdown didn’t respond as he walked through the corridors and they fell into a companionable silence. Amira watched the nearby Vehicons who were on duty march through the halls at attention, armed with threatening-looking weapons.

She began to ponder if they had a place they did drills, or if they were expected to do so in these halls? They didn’t exactly have a lot of space to work with. She turned to look at Breakdown’s face every once in a while, watching for any change of expression as they continued on. She’s noticed they’d missed their turn back to the medbay a few minutes ago, but she didn’t give it any mind. He did say he was going to stay away from the medbay for a bit. She pressed her lips together as she tried to find the words she needed.

“Hey, Breakdown?”

“Hmm?” he mumbled as he took a left.

“Thanks again, for taking me with you. And for staying away from the medbay for a little while.” Breakdown didn’t answer her, and she wondered if he’d heard her at all. She scooted a bit closer to his head and continued. “I know you think I’m a grub and all, but I really appreciate it.”

“Are you gonna keep being mushy? Because if that’s the case, I’ll just put you down right here and you can find your own way back.” Amira didn’t fight the small smirk. She knew he was deflecting her gratitude, possibly from embarrassment or uncertainty of how to respond.

“Nah. I’m done,” she assured him. They passed through a set of doors that led out onto another hallway as she said, “Can I ask you something?”

“Depends,” he said. She huffed with amusement before turning herself slightly to look at him better.

“How did you and Knock Out meet?” His steps faltered for a moment as he turned his head slightly to look at her out of the corner of his eye.

“Why would you wanna know that? I thought you didn’t wanna think about the doc right now.”

“I’ve been rooming with you two for a month now. I was just curious.” He stared at her for a moment before she added, “If you don’t want to, you don’t have to.” He looked away and kept walking, seeming to ignore her as they passed through a hallway that was lined with doors. He made a right turn once they reached the end of the hallway, ending at a large set of doors. Amira frowned as Breakdown punched a code into a pad next to the door. There was a low beep before the doors slid open and Breakdown stepped through. Amira gaped at the sight before her.

They were in a room that was bigger than the main bridge. Hundreds of little lights lined along the walkways and around the edges of the ceiling, which was shaped as a giant dome. Amira briefly thought that it reminded her of a planetarium. There was only one console in the corner, making the room feel even bigger as Breakdown walked towards the console. A screen appeared with a blip and Breakdown typed in something that she couldn’t see.

She was about to ask what he was doing when light appeared in the corner of her vision. She turned to find that a large window of some kind that was affixed along the wall had come online. It was round, and even from here she could tell that it was as big as, if not bigger, than Breakdown himself. He seemed to be satisfied with whatever he’d been doing and turned to head towards the window. Amira leaned forward in her perch to gaze into the window, taking in the sight before her.

It was a sea of stars. The window was full to bursting with them, along with a few colored wisps of dust and gas. She didn’t recognize any of the stars, but didn’t seem to care too much as she stared out at the vastness before her.

“Are we in space?” she asked, her eyes glued to the endless black.

“No,” Breakdown hummed, “We’re still in your planet’s atmosphere. This is just a simulation of one of the star systems the Decepticons have conquered.” Amira sat back in her seat as she took it all in.

“It’s beautiful,” she said softly. And she was surprised to find that it was the truth. So rarely was she impressed by the world she lived in after everything that had happened in her life. But every once in a while, she would witness something truly amazing. That seemed to be something that had happened at lot since she’d been taken aboard the Nemesis.

“I was already gonna come this way sometime today, but I figured now would be fine. S’my way of relaxin’ when I have a long day.” She hummed as she took note of the different colored stars.

“So, what’s this place we’re seeing now?”

“77-Cygni. It’s a star system a couple lightyears from Cybertron.”

“Have you been there?”

“I lived there once.” She turned to him, interested in more detail. “You asked how me and the doc met. This is where it happened. Specifically, on that planet right there.” Breakdown pointed a finger towards a cluster of dots to his left. She stared at the spot, and noticed how one of the dots didn’t have the same glare as the rest. It was a pale green and absolutely tiny.

“I thought you didn’t want to talk about how you guys met?”

“Not out in the halls. I don’t like people listening in on my conversations.” Amira decided to not mention that Soundwave had probably found a way to listen in on them right now and only nodded.

“Okay, so how did you meet?”

“First things first,” Breakdown said as he crossed his arms, “You don’t repeat this to anyone, got it?”

She frowned in confusion. “Is it classified or something?”

“No. S’just private. The only reason I’m even tellin’ you is so you’ll stop being scared of the doc and go back to the medbay.”

“I’m not scared of Knock Out,” she retorted, crossing her own arms with stubborn irritation. Breakdown was quiet, and she growled slightly as she rolled her eyes. “Fine. I promise I won’t repeat a word of what you say to me to anyone else.” Breakdown hummed in confirmation before he began.

“I didn’t always look like this,” he started. “I used to be smaller. Weaker. My earliest memories were being traded around to organics as a slave. I was bought by this one organic who owned a saloon on that planet. I was basically a cleaning drone. I worked almost all the time and was given barely enough energon to get by. And the slag they gave me wasn’t even refined properly.” Breakdown shifted in place slightly, as if speaking of his past brought back the feelings that accompanied it.

“I was working one day when this bright red Seeker came in and ordered a can of Visco. I still remember how fragging nervous I was when I brought it to him.”

“Wait,” Amira interrupted, “Knock Out’s a Seeker?” The only Seeker she knew of was Starscream, and he and Knock Out looked nothing alike.

“He used to be. He had his alt-mode reassigned a few millenia back.”

“So, he gave up his wings for wheels? Why would he want to do that?”

“That ain’t my story to tell.” She frowned at him, but he didn’t budge on the matter. “But yeah, I was nervous as scrap when I met him. When I went to give him a refill, he asked me if I would be interested in goin’ off-world. I told him I couldn’t cause of my boss, and he just told me to quit. I didn’t even know I could _do_ that. But he offered me somethin’ better, and I took him up on the offer. Next thing I know, we’re on a ship heading to Cybertron.

“When we got there, I had no idea what to expect, but he was with me through the whole thing. He brought me straight to Megatron himself and I joined the Decepticons.”

“Knock Out was a recruiter.” It wasn’t a question. Amira didn’t have a hard time picturing it - Knock Out had this air about him that made it difficult for anyone to ignore him for too long. It only made sense that Megatron would use someone like that his advantage. Breakdown’s answering nod only further cemented the fact into her brain.

“Back before he started learning to be a medic, Knock Out was a kind of poster mech. He was another face of the cause. Megatron was obviously the head of it, but he didn’t exactly win over any allies with his looks. So Knock Out was assigned to lure in troops. He had a few posters and some meetups. But when Megatron had someone on his radar that he really wanted, he’d send Knock Out himself to pick them up.”

“Were you one of those?”

“I guess. Dunno what ‘ol Megs saw in me though. I didn’t have this frame-type yet, so it wasn’t my strength.”

“So, how did you become his assistant?” Amira was starting to imagine what Knock Out and Breakdown had been like before they’d come to Earth. She had to admit - it was a sweet picture.

“After I came back from a mission. I had gone undercover as an Autobot Wrecker for a few vorns. Helped bring down a huge chuck of the fraggers’ operations. When they picked me up, the doc was there. We caught up and he asked me to put in a request to be his assistant. I said yes and it was done.”

“And you’ve been together ever since?” Breakdown shot her a look and she tilted her head with a grin.

“Yeah. We have.”

“So, I gotta ask,” she hummed as she crossed her legs, “How long have you two been… ‘together’ together?” Breakdown glared at her then.

“Knock Out told me about your little blackmail stunt, grub. You’d do well to leave it alone.” Amira’s smiled faltered slightly as she remembered just why she didn’t want to return to the medbay.

“Is it a secret? Your relationship?” she asked, her tone more serious. He stared at her for a moment before looking away.

“No. The crew knows that we’re conjunx. We just don’t like gettin’ yelled at for havin’ a little fun.”

So it wasn’t the relationship itself that Knock Out didn’t want her blabbing about. He just didn’t want her to tattle to Soundwave about them getting frisky where they shouldn’t. The ridiculousness of the situation hit her all at once and she found that she couldn’t hold back the snicker this time. She tried to cover her mouth to muffle the sound, but it didn’t do much. Breakdown rolled his eyes at her, which only made it worse. She was shaking with laughter, her eyes watering slightly as she bent forward to hold her stomach.

“Primus, are you glitched or something?” She tried to speak, but her laughter made it impossible. She took a few wheezing breaths, fighting back her giggles before she answered him.

“S-Sorry,” she snickered, “I just _snrk_ I can’t believe that this is my life right now.” Breakdown’s questioning glance threatened to break her resolve, but she pushed through it. “If you told me a month ago that I’d be getting chastised for blackmailing a giant alien robot who was caught having a quickie with his even bigger alien robot husband, I would have said you were crazy!”

Breakdown’s answering look of surprise was too much for Amira as she found herself dissolving into fits of laughter once again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay, Amira's not dead!
> 
> I originally wanted to fit more into this chapter, but when I saw just how long it had gotten, I decided to split it in half. The story of Breakdown and Knock Out's meeting comes from the lovely fanfiction "Deja Vu" written by MooseKababs, which you can find here!  
> \---> https://archiveofourown.org/works/15832101/chapters/36863844
> 
> I made a playlist for Amira that I listen to whenever I'm writing her. Here it is! - https://soundcloud.com/geminiwishes/sets/amira  
> Enjoy! ^-^


	8. Get In, Loser

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Like what you see? Come check out my Tumblr and shoot me a message! I love hearing from you guys!
> 
> https://www.google.com/url?sa=t&source=web&rct=j&url=http://geminiwishes.tumblr.com/&ved=2ahUKEwjI2ePR0rniAhVMeawKHXCYB18QFjAAegQICBAC&usg=AOvVaw24zaMp81HoMPcDZIslJis9

The next day began early for Amira. For starters, she learned that a speaker had been installed somewhere in her little box. She’d shot out of bed when a monotone voice filled the room, telling her that she would be leaving in one cycle. She’d sworn as she’d gotten up and rubbed the sleep out of her eyes, searching for the offending speaker. She had no luck and begrudgingly started her morning, taking a shower and trying to manage her mess of ebony hair.

She had noticed the bruises when she’d first taken off her shirt, but didn’t take much time to examine them until after she’d showered. She’d stood in front of the small mirror for a long time, taking in the ugly purple and blue splotches that wrapped around her ribs and stomach, contrasting with her tan skin. She could make out some indentions of where precisely Knock Out’s fingers had been. It still ached to breathe too deeply, but the pain wasn’t unbearable. She’d have to figure out a way to ice them later.

She changed into the spare set of clothes she’d been presented with over a week ago, which consisted of a too large t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants. She shoved her feet into her shoes and tied her hair up into a messy knot before exiting her box and heading into the medbay. Neither Knock Out nor Breakdown were present, she noted, as she opened up the inbox on her datapad in search for any new assigned lessons.

Instead of lessons, she found a file attachment from Soundwave. She tapped on the attachment and it opened to reveal a detailed list. It had everything she had requested, along with the added on items Soundwave wanted for some reason. She supposed that some of them were for her - things like “a cellphone” and “a tablet.”

But there were some things that she couldn’t figure out why he would want - things like “a large bird toy” and “wireless router”. Why would Soundwave need a router when he had the computers on the Nemesis? She wasn’t sure she wanted to know why he wanted a bird toy.

Knock Out entered the medbay and stood before, his expression twisted with annoyance. He glanced at her datapad and rolled his eyes.

“Let me see that,” he said before grabbing the datapad.

“Hey!” Knock Out ignored her objection as he scrolled through the list and tapped something on the screen. Amira glared up at him as he finished whatever he was trying to do and set the datapad back down in front of her.

“We’re meeting Soundwave by the outer hanger,” Knock Out said as he held out his hand to her. “We need to get going.” Amira’s glare lessened a tad as she stared at his outstretched hand. She remembered how Breakdown accused her of being afraid of Knock Out. The idea made her laugh. Afraid? Of Knock Out? Never.

She wasn’t afraid. She wasn’t. As she slowly stood up, she told herself that it wasn’t fear that made her hesitate, but caution.

“I don’t have all day, fleshie,” Knock Out drolled, sneering at her slow pace. She shot him a warning look.

“Are you going to squeeze me again?”

“Are you going to sass me again?” She scoffed as she crossed her arms. “I don’t intend to clean your filthy gunk out of my joints any time soon. Now can we go? Soundwave won’t wait forever.” Her eyes flickered between his frustrated expression and his offered hand for another moment before she let out a slow breath.

Rolling back her shoulders, Amira crossed the space between them and crawled into his hand, situating herself as he brought his hand up and left the medbay. They didn’t speak as Knock Out walked up to the outer hanger.

Amira had to swallow a gasp as the door to the hanger opened and she hit with a blast of cold wind. There was an walkway that opened up to the bright blue sky outside. Wind swirled around the hanger, pulling stray hairs out of her messy knot and tickling her face. She combed her hands through her hair as Knock Out stepped forward. It was then that she noticed that Soundwave was waiting in the center of the room, silent and menacing as ever.

She wondered if he knew what Knock Out had done to her right after their last meeting.

“I hope you don’t expect me to lug around all the fleshie’s things,” Knock Out said by way of greeting. Soundwave stared at him for a moment before he looked down at Amira. She sat up a little straighter as he brought up a hand to her. For a moment, she thought he was asking her to climb into his hand. Something small was held in between his fingers, and Amira immediately recognized it as the handbag he’d given to her the other day.

How had he gotten it? Maybe she’d dropped it when she’d almost been crushed to death. Did that mean Soundwave did know? The officer’s visor remained blank and she remembered just how annoyed she’d been about that the last time she’d talked to him. She accepted the handbag and opened it up to find that everything was still inside.

“I still don’t see how you think this card will work,” she said, more to herself that to Soundwave. He only turned towards the opening in the hanger, ignoring both her and Knock Out’s commentary. She was about to ask just what he was doing when there was a faint crackle. A flicker of white and green sparked in the space in front of Soundwave before it expanded into a massive, swirling vortex. Her eyes widened at the familiar portal before her.

“A groundbridge…” she said quietly. Knock Out stepped around Soundwave before turning to look at him.

“I’ll comm you as soon as we’re finished,” he hummed before turning back towards the groundbridge. Amira braced herself for him to walk the few steps forward before they passed through the portal, but instead, his grip on her tightened a fraction. Her eyes widened and her pulse quickened. A strange mechanical sound reverberated all around her as Knock Out’s form began to fold into itself, pulling her into a cage of metal. She yelped as she felt her body fall for just a moment before she was caught again. Only this time, instead of metal, she was sitting on firm leather.

She blinked with surprise as she looked around, realizing that she was now inside a car. Not just any car, she told herself.

An Aston Martin.

Knock Out.

The car shot forward, making her curse as she gripped the edges of her seat.

“Hey! Watch the leather!” a familiar but disembodied voice snapped. She opened her mouth to reply, but before she could, they passed through the groundbridge. The bright light was too much for Amira as she quickly shut her eyes, bringing up a hand to cover them. When the light faded behind her eyelids, she slowly parted her fingers and squinted.

They were driving down a small road in what looked to be the parking lot behind a grocery store. She sat up in her seat and looked around. It was sunny outside, trees swaying in the breeze as a flock of birds flew overhead. There were a few cars parked along the spaces designated for employees, along with a few trucks.

“Where are we?” she asked as she took a moment to take in Knock Out’s interior. Sleek, black leather detailed with red thread stood out along with the wicked looking gold and red lights that lit up along the console. She was sitting in the passenger’s seat, leaving the driver’s seat empty. The steering wheel, however, continued to move as if invisible fingers were keeping the car in control.

“We are at our first stop of the day, fleshie. You wanted sustenance, so we have been sent to retrieve it.”

“I figured that much,” she huffed. “I meant where are we specifically?”

“Some place called Minnesota. Bloomington, to be more specific.”

“Minnesota?” she repeated. “Why Minnesota?”

“I didn’t think to question Soundwave about every single detail of this little excursion. I couldn’t care less where we are. All that I care about is getting this done as soon as possible so I can start disinfecting my interior.” Her seat shifted in answer and she glared at the dashboard in front of her.

They soon turned out of the employee parking and were out in the main parking lot in front of the store. Amira read the sign on the front and grimaced.

“Seriously?” she said as she stared at the bright white lettering that read WAL-MART.

“I suggest you keep your complaints to yourself. I’m still shocked that Soundwave even agreed to this.” Knock Out pulled into an empty spot and shifted into park.

“So, you’re waiting here then?” she asked. He sighed with irritation.

“Ugh. I wish. I was made clear that I am to stay with you at all times.”

“Uh,” Amira motioned to his alt-mode, “I doubt you’re going to be inconspicuous. Or even fit.”

“I’m going to ignore that last part,” he snapped, seemingly offended. She rolled her eyes at his attitude.

“My point still stands,” she said.

“Do you honestly think I didn’t take that into consideration? And here I thought you were a smart little monkey.” There was a shimmer in the driver’s seat as a human man suddenly appeared, sitting behind the wheel and leaning back in the seat. Amira stared at the man for a moment, her eyes impossibly wide as she scooted as far away as she could in her seat.

“What the fuck,” she muttered under her breath as the man seemed to come alive, blinking and sitting up as if to work out a cramp. He turned to look at her, pinning her to the spot with honey golden eyes as he grinned like a cat. “What the fuck,” she said louder.

“Not exactly the reaction I was going for, but I’ll take it,” the man hummed. He ran a pale hand through his jet black hair as his smirk widened. “It seems I’m gorgeous no matter what form I take.”

“Knock Out, what the actual fuck.” The man frowned slightly, pursing his lips with distaste.

“Are you going to keep spitting out vulgarities the entire day? Because if so, I might just take it personally.” He crossed his arms over a well-built chest and tilted his head slightly in a gesture that was pure, undiluted Knock Out.

“How are you… Why are you…” Amira took in the strange human in the driver’s seat, unsure what to ask first. It seemed he’d decided his human form should match his alt-mode. His human form was clearly European, just like his Aston Martin. He was well built, with muscled arms and a toned chest. He was wearing a cherry red muscle shirt that left nothing to the imagination with a black leather jacket with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. A simple belt held up a pair of black trousers and she could gleam a pair of shiny black shoes on his feet.

“Like what you see?” he purred, grabbing her attention. She frowned at the smug tone in his voice as she released some of the tension in her shoulders.

“How are you doing that?”

“It’s a holoform. All Cybertronians have the ability to use them. They’re customizable, as you can see. I couldn’t walk around as some plain, run-of-the-mill fleshie.” He sat up a bit straighter to try and emphasize his point.

“So you’re a hologram?” she said as she reached out a tentative hand. “Is my hand going to pass through you if I try to touch you?”

“Do you make a habit of touching people without asking?”

“You’re not ‘people’.”

“Rude.”

“ _Knock Out_.” The man rolled his eyes and sighed.

“No, you’re hand won’t pass through me. Most Cybertronians do stick with just a simple hologram for their holoform, but given the nature of our situation, I was given clearance to create a holoform that can interact with other things.” He smirked at her confused expression. “The technology was developed after observing a species who make up their forms in a familiar way. Think of this,” he motioned to himself, “as light but with mass.” Amira tried to wrap her head around the technology he was describing, but it just didn’t seem possible. She reached out a hand and poked his shoulder with a finger.

“Yeah, no,” she said as his body pushed back. She backed up against the passenger door.

“No?”

“No way. That’s too weird. Turn it off.”

“It’s non-negotiable,” he purred. “Either my little friend here tags along or we go back.” She grimaced at the ultimatum. This human before her, speaking and acting like Knock Out was freaky enough, but to think she would have to walk around with him all day? She fought to suppress the shudder.

She had dealt with worse. She could handle this.

“Fine,” she finally conceded. Knock Out’s smile was back at full force now and it took an unbelievable amount of restraint for her to not punch him in that pretty face of his. “Just don’t touch me,” she added on.

“I plan to avoid it entirely,” he assured her. The glove compartment clicked open, the door smacking Amira’s knees. She jumped back and glared at his holoform. “Don’t forget your list,” he said, motioning to the open compartment. Frowning, she looked inside to find what looked to be a notebook. She flipped open the front to find her list printed out onto the paper. She opened her mouth to ask just how he had managed to do this, but thought better of it. Better to just let it go.

“Come on, then,” she said as she pulled the tab to open the car door. She stepped out and had just gotten out of the way when the door slammed shut. “Watch it!” she snapped. Knock Out’s disembodied voice chuckled and in that moment, Amira wished she had something sharp to scratch his paint. She walked around Knock Out’s parked alt mode and waited for his holofrom to open the door. There was a shimmer and a ripple before he materialized next to the car.

Amira snorted as he turned and ran a hand through his hair again, checking his reflection in the window.

“If you’re done preening, I’d like to get going,” Amira said as she waved the notepad in her hand. Knock Out fixed his jacket before joining her as they walked towards the entrance to the store. His form had an inch or two on her, it seemed. Amira noticed that he still walked with the same swagger he had as a Cybertronian, but with a human body, it looked much more feminine. They were already getting some looks from other customers and they hadn’t even gone inside yet, she thought with disdain.

They got inside and grabbed a cart - or more specifically, Amira grabbed a cart while Knock Out watched, looking for all the world as if he was striking a pose for the Wal-Mart greeter. Amira was certain her eyes would fall into the back of her head with how violently she rolled them. She set the black handbag in the compartment where a child would go before joining Knock Out, clipping his hip with the cart. Knock Out’s look of irritation was well worth it as she walked past him, smirking.

By the time Knock Out caught up with her, Amira was almost at the back of the store, pushing her cart with one hand and flipping through the notepad with the other. Knock Out seemed to stay as close as possible without touching Amira, his eyes darting around them with either curiosity or wariness. Amira ignored him as she set about grabbing the first few things she wanted - soda, tea, and instant coffee powder. She went from aisle to aisle, picking out things that were easy to make and non-perishable. It wasn’t until she’d gotten to the cereal aisle that Knock Out finally spoke up.

“Don’t humans like to eat cold things?” She glanced at him as she grabbed a large bag of off-brand cheerios.

“Sometimes,” she said simply as she set the bag in the cart and began to push it into the next aisle.

“So why don’t you get anything cold?”

“Because I’d need to store it somewhere cold so it won’t spoil. And since you don’t have anything like that on the ship, I’m sticking with foods that I can leave out without worrying about them going bad.”

“They sell those cooling units here, don’t they? Just get one.” Amira stopped her cart and looked back at him.

“Why do you care what I get? I doubt you made that thing so it could eat,” she said as she waved at his human form. She stared at his abdomen for a moment as her nose wrinkled slightly. “...Unless you did?” Knock Out’s answering gagging sound was enough to ease her curiosity.

“Primus, no. Never. There’s no way that even Soundwave could get me to do that.” He crossed his arms as he leaned over to look over the collection of cans, bottles, and boxes in her cart. “I never understood why you even need all of this. Why have all of these different choices when they all would be just fine to keep you sustained?”

“Because unlike you, we don’t have a single food that gives us all the necessary nutrients we need. Different food groups offer different vitamins and nutrients that the human body needs, so we need a little bit of a lot to get by.” She gave him a small shrug as she set a can of green beans in the cart. “And we just like some variety. Don’t you have anything besides energon you can eat?”

“No,” Knock Out said offhandedly as he picked up a box of crackers and examined it. “We do have different grades of energon. Some bots use sweeteners.”

“See? Not so hard to imagine us wanting to change it up too, then.” Knock Out only hummed as he set the box down and looked down at her cart.

“How much longer is this going to take?”

“I think I’m done getting food.”

“Good! Then we can-”

“Oh, no. I’m not done shopping. I still have other things I need.” Knock Out groaned as he looked up at the ceiling.

“Like what?”

“Like soap. And toothpaste,” she sassed. “Honestly, I thought you knew about human needs.”

“Only what I saw in your films,” he snapped back as he stuck up his nose. Amira furrowed her brows in confusion.

“When did you have time to watch human movies?” she asked as she pushed her cart to the other side of the store.

“Drive-in theatres.” She blinked in surprise at the simple answer. Knock Out side-eyed her as he kept pace with her cart. “There’s only so many personal vids onboard the Nemesis.” He sounded so indignant, like he’d been caught with his hand in the cookie jar. The mental image alone was enough to make her snicker.

Amira hadn’t spent nearly as long in the hygiene sections. She’d grabbed most of the essentials rather quickly - toothbrush and toothpaste, hairbrush, hair ties, shampoo, soap, and deodorant. Knock Out had been very interested in all of the different scents of body wash, despite the fact that his holoform couldn’t smell. She briefly wondered if he could smell as a Cybertronian. He didn’t even have a nose.

While he was distracted, she’d grabbed a few other things, including feminine products. She hadn’t had a period in a while, which she learned was due to how little food and energy her body was running on. But now that she was eating regularly and working out, she was expecting her menstrual cycle to return any day now.

When she had told Knock Out she was going to grab medicines, Knock Out had been more than curious. He’d been annoyed that she didn’t know the difference between aspirin and ibuprofen, and he’d spent more time reading the labels on vitamin bottles than she did. She’d snagged a first aid kit and a few different pills and ointments. Since the Nemesis was only equipped to help Cybertronians, she knew that it would be up to her to patch herself up should she get hurt. She tossed in a small booklet that offered basic first aid tips before Knock Out spoke up.

“How you fleshies became the dominant species is still a mystery to me.” She glanced up from her cart to him.

“Believe me, I’ve wondered the same thing for years.” Knock Out set down the box he’d been looking over - a package of Icy Hot.

“You have so many things that can go wrong with your frames and yet somehow you crawled your way up to the top of the food chain.” He didn’t hide the small grin on his face. “For a bunch of squishy monkeys, it’s impressive. Just a little.” He held up his thumb and forefinger to further emphasis his point. Amira didn’t bother answering him as she left to get the next thing on her list.

 

* * *

 

Another two hours had passed before Amira was finally satisfied with her haul. She’d had to get a second cart at one point and threaten to force a slice of cheese into Knock Out’s holoform’s mouth to get him to push it around for her. She’d gotten most of the things she’d needed, save for a few trivial things she’d only added to make the list longer. She had food, hygiene products, dishes, small furniture, pillows and blankets, a lamp, and a few other miscellaneous items.

Knock Out had quit whining once she started looking for bedsheets and had taken to being a consultant on her decorations, despite her insistence that he mind his own business. He wasn’t ever going to see her room - why the hell did he care what it looked like?

They’d gotten in line at the check-out and Amira tried to look busy so that she wouldn’t have to talk to anyone. Knock Out read over the magazines lined up on the racks by the conveyor belt. He snorted at some of the more bizarre tabloids. She made a point to not make eye contact with him; no doubt he would try to ask her about these gossip columns if she caught his eye.

They didn’t have to wait long before they began to load things up on the belt. The cashier grimaced at the sheer number of items they had and picked up her phone, calling for a bagger and another cart. They continued this slow process of putting things up to the register and placing bags into the carts for what felt like forever.

Finally, an eternity later, the cashier finished ringing her up and read out her total. Amira felt her stomach drop at the number. She’d never even seen that much money before, much less ever had it. She was suddenly very nervous as she pulled out the wallet Soundwave had given her and handed the cashier the credit card. The woman swiped it and typed something in on her screen. There was a pause before a loud, obnoxious beep.

“Your card was declined, ma’am.” The cashier sounded annoyed as she said it, no doubt at just how much time she had wasted scanning all these items. Amira felt her heart jump up into her throat and she turned to silently ask for Knock Out’s help. Knock Out leaned against the handle of his cart and gave the cashier a winning smile.

“Try it again. That card is a bit finicky sometimes. The strip tends to misbehave.” The cashier glanced over at Knock Out and stiffened slightly, her eyes going wide as her shoulders tightened. Her cheeks flushed slightly and Amira could have sworn she saw her lips tremble slightly as she gave a shy smile.

“Of course,” she said dreamily. Amira had to fight the urge to gag. The cashier swiped the card again and typed into her screen again. There was a moment of quiet before there was soft, melodious ring of a bell. The cashier’s smile widened as the screen in front of Amira read APPROVED. “Oh! There we go!” she exclaimed as she handed the cart back to Amira. “It must have not read it right the first time.”

“Uh huh,” Amira hummed as she took the card and placed it back in the wallet. She set it back in the cart and began to push it towards the exit.

“Thank you for your time,” Knock Out purred as he passed the cashier, causing her to blush even harder and stammer out a weak “You’re welcome.” Amira rolled her eyes again as she left the store, pushing the cart towards where Knock Out was parked. She side-eyed Knock Out as he joined her in the parking lot.

“You’re disgusting,” she said by way of greeting. Knock Out only ran his hands through his hair and grinned at her.

“Is the fleshie jealous that I’m better at charming her own kind than she is?”

“Aren’t you married?”

“There’s nothing wrong with a little flirting to get what you want,” Knock Out said. He looked up at the sky and got this far-off expression. “Knock Out to Soundwave, requesting a groundbridge back to the Nemesis.” Amira watched his holoform as his smirk shrunk slightly. There was a rumble of engines as three identical purple cars with black detailing pulled up into the parking spaces next to Knock Out. Amira was about to say something when three identical figures appeared by the cars in the same way Knock Out’s own holoform had.

“Of course,” she said as the three men walked over to her and Knock Out. They all had plain faces with an average build. They wore sunglasses and purple shirts with black pants that looked like they’d been painted on. Obviously the Vehicons didn’t care to make their holoforms blend in as well as Knock Out’s did. They didn’t say a word to Amira as they reached into the carts and began gathering bags and loading them into their own vehicles.

“This is ridiculous,” Knock Out snarled, “ If they were just going to send drones to pick up her supplies, why not have them accompany her instead of me?!”

“I’m right here, you jackass,” she hissed. Knock Out only glared at her before getting that far-off look in his eye again. He was muttering under his breath now and Amira didn’t bother to try and understand what he was saying. It was probably just insults and complaints anyways.

By the time the Vehicons finished loading up all of her things, Knock Out had cooled down significantly. His holoform had flickered out of existence at some point, but Amira paid it no mind as she walked around the passenger’s side to the door and waited for him to open it for her. She slid into the passenger’s seat when he finally did and looked over at the empty driver’s seat.

“Are we waiting for the Vehicons?” she asked as the gearstick shifted into reverse.

“No,” Knock Out said as he pulled out of the parking spot and began the drive out of the parking lot and onto a main road. She frowned as he pulled out and entered the flow of traffic.

“Then where are we going?”

“Soundwave says we didn’t get everything on your list. So he’s insisting we finish up at one of your larger shopping centers.” She opened her mouth to argue before realizing that he was right. There was a lot she hadn’t gotten on the list, but she hadn’t given it too much thought. But there were things on that list that Soundwave wanted for himself, she argued. Like the router. She’d remembered to get the bird toys, thank goodness. But she still wasn’t sure why Soundwave wanted a router.

“Did he give you directions? Because I have no idea where the hell we are.”

“Of course he did,” he retorted. “Honestly, are you going to keep asking questions the entire drive?”

“And what if I do?” she snorted. He didn’t answer her this time, and she took it as a small victory. She turned to look out the window, watching the cars that passed by. The silence filled the car for a few minutes before the crackling static of a radio. Amira grimaced as the first verse of a pop song filtered through the speakers. She glanced at the radio before speaking. “Really?”

“I don’t like to drive in silence. So sue me.” Her brow rose at the Earth colloquialism. “Besides, I happen to like this song.” She huffed out a laugh at that.

“I didn’t think you guys cared enough about Earth to listen to our music.”

“We get bored. And with how much music you humans have clogging up the radio waves, it’s practically unavoidable. I can’t even begin to tell you how grating it was when we first entered your planet’s air space.” She sat up a bit at that.

“Just how long have you guys been here?”

“I’m going to assume you mean how long according to your sense of time.” She shot him an unamused expression, but she wasn’t sure if he could even see her. “Let’s see,” he hummed as he thought about it for a moment. “If my calculations are correct - and let’s face it, they are - we have been on your planet now for a little over three years now.”

“Only three?” She had been expecting him to say they’d been here for decades or even centuries.

“You were expecting longer?”

“Maybe,” she hummed as she leaned back in her seat. “So, is this the only music you listen to?”

“My, my, you’re quite talkative all of a sudden,” Knock Out purred. Amira debated putting her feet up on the dashboard to piss him off.

“I just don’t want to listen to this crap,” she deflected as she waved a hand at the radio that ad moved to another track - another pop song known for being a bit of an earworm.

“Did you have something else in mind?” She stared at the radio for a moment.

“You’re letting me pick something?”

“If it means you’ll stop trying to talk, then yes.” She glared at the radio for a moment before rolling her eyes and reaching for the dial. The back of her seat suddenly fell back, bringing her with it. Pain pulsed through her as her bruises ached. She let out an indignant yelp as she thudded against the fitted leather seat. “Ah, ah, ah! No touching,” Knock Out hissed as the back of her seat slowly moved back into an upright position.

“You could have just said that!” she snapped, wrapping a hand around the seatbelt and giving it a hard tug.

“Just tell me the station,” he said, ignoring her outburst. Amira was quickly running out of patience, her hands twisting and pulling at the seat belt to keep from running her nails along the leather. She was very tempted to throw caution to the wind just to piss Knock Out off.

The seat belt tightened considerably around her chest and the ache of her bruised ribs returned. She groaned softly before immediately biting her cheek to stifle the sound. She leaned back in her seat to ease the pull of the seat belt strap, deciding against retaliating further.

“Stop squirming,” Knock Out snapped. Amira wanted to protest, but the pain of her ribs and the memory of large hands suffocating her kept her from doing so. She carefully stopped moving, resting against the leather seat. The seat belt finally slackened and she sighed with relief. “Now,” he said slowly, “You may _tell_ me which station to turn to.” Anger threatened to build up inside of her at his dismissal of their little tussle, but she pushed it down. She bit out the station, choosing one that played nationwide since she wasn't familiar with the local stations. A techno song began to play, the bass making Knock Out’s speakers thump.

Amira relaxed considerably as the music filled the space. She hadn’t realized just how much she had missed her music. She let out a small sigh as she leaned her head back against the seat.

“Hmm, interesting choice,” Knock Out commented as he sped along the highway. She glanced at the radio.

“Interesting how?”

“This sounds very similar to music back on Cybertron,” he replied. “I don’t know much about the different genres on this planet, but if I had to compare it, I’d say it’s similar to our traditional music.” She blinked with surprise.

“You’re kidding.” She was certain he was joking. This, traditional? The very idea seemed ridiculous. “So, what? People in Cybertron’s high society would listen to Skrillex?”

“Of course not,” Knock Out scoffed. “It’s not _that_ kind of traditional music. Think more for ceremonies. Things like the opening to a competition of some kind. Or maybe a bonding ceremony. Things with a bit more passion involved.” She hummed as she thought it over. It wasn’t… impossible to picture. With how prominent the bass was in some techno and EDM music, she could see it being used for something like Knock Out described.

Their conversation died down as the song played and Amira began to relax. Minutes passed by and soon, Knock Out was pulling into another parking lot and turning down the music. Amira blinked out of her daze to take in her surroundings. She gaped at the building before them.

“Holy shit,” she whispered as Knock Out parked.

“Dare I ask?” he drolled. His holoform reappeared in the driver’s seat, looking at her with an unamused expression.

“You didn’t say we were going to the Mall of America!” He tilted his head with curiosity.

“Does it matter?”

“Yes! Dude, this is the largest mall in the country!”

“Good,” he said with a shrug, “Then you shouldn’t have any problem finding the rest of your things here.” She got the feeling that he was messing with her as he rematerialized outside of the car before her door opened for her. The seat belt unclicked itself and she scrambled out of the car to get a proper look at the giant building. The buildings were taller than some of the buildings she saw back in Boston and lined with windows, giving it a strange grid look. The iconic Mall of America sign hung proudly above the entrance and Amira couldn’t help but trace the flow of the ribbon with her eye.

“I uh, I’ve never been in here,” she managed to say as she glanced at Knock Out’s holoform.

“I can tell,” he said with a snarky tone. “You look like one of those little orange things you humans keep as pets.” She didn’t doubt she looked like a goldfish, but she didn’t try to argue with him as they walked towards the entrance.

Amira stayed as close to Knock Out as she could without getting in his personal space, eyeing the surrounding people as they entered the mall. She hated being around so many people, but she wasn’t about to tell _him_ that.

“Now,” Knock Out said as he pulled something out of his jacket pocket. Amira’s brow quirked when she saw that it was her checklist. “We have a lot to get, and Soundwave is one mech you don’t want to disappoint.” He handed the list to her. “I suggest we start with clothes.”

“I got some at the last store,” she argued.

“You tried to, but I put them back.”

“You what?!” Knock Out only waved a hand at her outburst.

“I’ve learned quite a bit about your human fashion and everything in that store was absolutely dreadful. If you’re going to be working in my medbay, you can’t look like a two bit doll.” She had no idea what that even meant, but before she could give a rebuttal, Knock Out had his hand around her wrist and was pulling her deeper into the mall.

“Hey! Let go!” she snapped.

“No can do. You are in desperate need of some guidance, and it looks like I’m the mech to give it to you.” She stopped fighting him for a moment as she processed his words.

“You? Give me fashion advice? You don’t know anything about fashion!”

“I just said I did. But first things first,” he said as he stopped in front of a store front. Amira grimaced as she took it in. “We need to do something about all of this.” He motioned to the messy bun atop her head before pulling her into a hair salon.

 

* * *

 

Amira was debating the merits of grabbing one of the sterilized pairs of scissors and throwing at Knock Out’s face. From the moment he had entered the salon, all eyes had been on them. That was bad enough in and of itself, but of course it didn’t end there. Oh no. Knock Out had insisted on sweet-talking almost every single person in the salon and had given very specific instructions to her hairdresser. He acted like he was taking a spoiled pet to the groomers, and that only pissed her off more.

Her stylist had tried to start up conversation with her, complimenting her hair and her looks, but Amira was not interested in talking at all. She hated small talk in general, and she’d taken one look at her stylist and known she was an idiot. Her station was covered in photographs and little quotes written in wavy cursive and she had a few bright colored baubles lined up along the bottom of the mirror. Knock Out’s conversation with her only confirmed what she’d suspected - the woman was an aunt, single, and hanging onto the “I’m cute” motif without actually trying to work on her own personality. Her voice was grating and Amira had to resort to picking at her nails to keep from saying something that could result in a chunk of her hair being mysteriously cut off.

It had taken over an hour before the stylist finished and turned the chair to let Amira see the final product. Amira hummed as she studied her reflection. About three inches had been cut off and her hair had been straightened, which was feat in and of itself given how stubborn her natural waves were. The hairdresser is explaining how to maintain her new look, but Amira wasn’t listening as she slipped out of the chair and took off the apron around her neck, placing it on the seat.

“Ready?” she said to Knock Out as she passed by him, grabbing the handbag and pulling out the wallet. She didn’t wait for an answer as she went up to the front counter to pay. The card glitched again, but she encouraged them to rescan it, and sure enough, it worked. She was signing a receipt when Knock Out finally dained to join her, finishing up whatever conversation he was having. She left the shop without another word, stuffing her hands back into his hoodie.

“Are you always this charming with humans?” Knock Out asked as they fall into step side by side, weaving around other shoppers.

“Are you always this flirtatious?” she replied. Knock Out only smirked at her deflection. She rolled her eyes at the knowing look on his face. “I already told you - I don’t like people.”

“I can see that,” he hummed. They were quiet for a minute or two before he said “You know, I’ve been meaning to ask you about that.”

“What, why I don’t like people?”

“In a manner of speaking.” Amira shrugged slightly, pushing her hands further into her hoodie pocket.

“I just don’t. I never have.”

“You’ll have to forgive me if I don’t believe that.” She stopped suddenly and frowned at him.

“Why do you care?”

“Who said I did?” She scoffed at his casual response.

“I don’t see how it’s any of your business why I am the way I am. How I feel about my own species shouldn’t matter at all to you.”

“Oh, come off it. I’m just curious. What’s so wrong with that?” Amira wondered if after all the movies Knock Out claimed to have watched if he ever heard the saying about what curiosity did to the cat. “Fine, I won’t push it. But answer me this,” he said as he rose a brow, “Was there ever a time that you did care about humans?”

She debated just walking away, leaving him without an answer, but she was reminded that she was stuck with him for the rest of the day. He would pester her about it for the rest of the day if she didn’t say something.

“Yeah,” she said matter-of-factly, “There was. And before you ask, no, I am not telling you. Can we just get on with this? Being around this many people is making me claustrophobic.” She bunched up her shoulders slightly to emphasis her point.

“Like I said, we’re getting you clothes. So, where do we go?” Amira frowned slightly as she looked around at the surrounding store fronts. She wasn’t sure which one to pick. She’d never really thought about fashion sense. She didn’t have the time or money to do so.

“Shouldn’t you pick something?” she asked. “You’re the one who said you were going to give me fashion advice.”

“Yes, I did, but I need to know what I have to work with before I can start.” He placed a hand on his hip and gestured towards the stores. Amira began to pick at her nails inside her hoodie pocket as she avoided his eyes.

“Unlike you, I don’t care that much about my looks.” Knock Out was quiet for a moment and she glanced at him out of the corner of her eye. His expression was thoughtful and some other emotion she couldn’t pinpoint. If she didn’t know any better, she would have thought it was pity. Knock Out didn’t do pity, she reminded herself. He stepped past her, drawing her attention to him again. He turned to look at her and tilted his head towards one of the shops.

“Coming?” he hummed before walking inside. Seeing as she had no other option, Amira followed him into the store.

 

* * *

 

Amira winced as she pulled off another shirt and put it back on its hanger. Knock Out had been handing her piece after piece having her come out of the dressing room to show him before deciding whether or not it ‘worked’ on her. Her torso ached from the constant stretching and her hair had built quite the static charge, resulting in a multitude of flyaways.

He’d started off with clothes similar to the ones she’d been wearing for the last few weeks - hoodies and pullovers and jeans. He had slowly moved into thinner materials like cotton plaid, which he didn’t seem to mind, but didn’t enjoy all that much.

Amira had started to intervene when he’d started handing her things with brighter and brighter colors. She’d expected him to fight her on it or complain, but he’d taken the critique in stride and had adjusted his choices accordingly. She was honestly surprised to find that she didn’t hate the clothes he chose for her.

He placed another shirt over the door for her and took the one she’d put up for him to put away.

“Hurry up in there. We’re going to run behind at this rate.”

“And who’s fault is that?” she retorted.

“I’m not the one taking forever to try on clothes.”

‘You try moving around with these stupid bruises,’ she thought hotly before picking up the newest shirt. She frowned slightly at the style. It was a black, stretchy crop top with a white outline of the phases of the moon printed along the front. Normally, she would have been happy to try it on, but she knew that she couldn’t show it to Knock Out. It would show off her bruised torso, and she had no plans to let him see those. She didn’t need to feed his ego any more.

“It doesn’t fit,” she said as she put the shirt back on the hook.

“What? How? I got it in the same size as all the others.”

“It just doesn’t,” she said as she picked up her own hoodie and moved to put it back on.

“Well, can I still see it? I’m sure I saw that one in a few different sizes. If it looks good, I'll get a different size.” She grimaced at his insistence.

“Knock Out, we’ve already gotten a lot of clothes. It’s not the end of the world if I don’t have this one.”

“Speak for yourself. I actually really liked that one.” She only rolled her eyes before pulling on her hoodie and stepping out of the dressing room. Knock Out stood up from the bench he’d been sitting on and gestured to the growing pile of clothes. “Was it too small or too big?”

“It didn’t look right. Now drop it,” she said before grabbing a handful of clothes and carrying them out. She didn’t wait to see if Knock Out followed before she went up to the front. The cashier began to scan the clothes and pack them away in large bags. Amira looked over her shoulder in time to see Knock Out leave the dressing rooms with the rest of the clothes. He set them down on the counter in front of the cashier before looking at her.

“I think it would be best to take a break,” he suggested as he slid his hands into his pockets.

“Oh?”

“Have you refueled yet?” They both ignored the confused look the cashier gave them.

“If you’re asking if I’m hungry, the answer is yes. We’ll go to the food court after this,” she replied as she motioned to the till. Knock Out nodded in agreement before they fell into a companionable silence. The cashier read out the total and Amira didn’t flinch this time. She handed the cashier the card and paid for the clothes before grabbing the bags.

“Just how much is on that card?” she asked Knock Out as they exited the store and made their way to the food court.

“Is there supposed to be a limit?” he asked, his answering grin mischievous. “You humans have made so much of your currency digital. It would be so easy to make your card limitless.”

“So you guys use physical currency?”

“Of course not. Ours is all digital. The difference is that Cybertron had much more advanced security measures to keep someone from giving themselves more shanix. Humans, however? Your cyber defenses are laughable. Soundwave oversaw your spending, but I’m sure it would have been fine if he’d pushed that job onto any random drone.” Amira wasn’t sure just how much sense that made, but she didn’t know enough about the mechanics of online money to argue.

“Well, if that’s the case, I think this trip just got a lot more interesting.”

 

* * *

 

After they’d taken a well-deserved break and Amira had eaten, they’d gotten back on track. Amira was having a lot more fun now that she knew that she could afford anything in the mall. She had worried that Knock Out would try to stop her, but he’d taken delight in her shopping spree, suggesting things that she hadn’t even thought to buy.

They’d gotten everything on the list, including a tablet, laptop, and cellphone for Amira as well as the router Soundwave requested. They’d gone into a few shops that weren’t on the list and had found even more to buy. Both Knock Out and Amira had spent almost two hours inside the bookshop, browsing volume after volume. Amira had caved and gotten a Nook along with a few books. She was surprised to find that Knock Out had purchased a few of his own. There was a plethora of car magazines along with a scientific journal or two, and surprisingly enough, one or two romance novels.

She’d given Knock Out a questioning look, to which he only replied with “It’s for research.”

They’d passed by an art supply shop and Knock Out had almost dislocated Amira’s shoulder as he pulled her inside. He had insisted that she get as much as they could carry, arguing that she’d need the best supplies to ‘truly capture his astounding beauty.’ She hadn’t argued, and soon left the store with her arms piled high with boxes and bags.

The sun was starting to set by the time they finally left the mall. And just as before, Knock Out commed for assistance and a team of Vehicons drove up to take their purchases back to the Nemesis. When the line of black and purple cars drove off, Amira turned to Knock Out’s holoform.

“Back to the ship then?” she asked.

“Not quite,” he said as they walked back to where he’d parked. Amira fought a groan.

“What else is there to do?” she grumbled as they reached his waiting alt mode. The passenger door opened and she slid in, pulling the seat belt over herself and clicking it.

“One last thing,” Knock Out assured her as his holoform disappeared and his engine revved. They backed out of the parking space and pulled out of the lot.

“Are you going to tell me what it is?”

“Soundwave made an appointment for you at a parlor per Megatron’s instructions.” Amira sat up slightly at that.

“What do you mean?”

“You are going to start working for us in the near future. Therefore, you will need to be in uniform like the rest of us.”

“Uniform?” she snorted, “You guys don’t have uniforms. You don’t even wear clothes.”

“And that is where you are wrong, fleshie.” They slowed down and turned into another parking lot. Realization dawned on Amira as she caught sight of the shop’s neon. A tattoo parlor. She continued to stare as Knock Out pulled into another parking spot and shut off his engine. Her seatbelt released itself with a click before the passenger’s side door swung open.

“Knock Out-”

“Go on, then. I want to get this done quickly so we can head back. A oil bath and a cube of high grade are calling my name.” Amira shifted slightly in her seat before nervously stepping out. The door shut and Knock Out holoform appeared beside her. She flinched slightly and glared at him.

“Stop doing that. That thing still gives me the creeps,” she said as she gestured to his holoform. Knock Out only chuckled as he lead the way into the tattoo parlor, Amira following close behind.

The shop was empty of customers. A sitting room off to the side had two leather upholstered couches and a low table with magazines and binder strewn across its surface. Cubicles lined the walls and another couch was set in the center of the room with a large TV playing an old kung fu movie. Hair metal was playing from the speakers installed in the ceiling and the walls were covered in tattoo art, from small pieces to huge ones that took up an entire canvas. Knock Out was talking to someone at a counter off to the right, holding out a notepad and pointing to something on it.

She walked over to them and glanced down at the notepad. A clean, colored sketch of the Decepticon brand was emblazoned on the paper, making Amira’s heart skip a beat.

“And where did you want it?” the tattooist, a young woman with electric blue hair, asked. Knock Out looked at Amira for a moment.

“Your call. It’s customary for it to go either in the center of the chest or on either shoulder.” Amira blinked in stunned silence for a moment before the request registered in her mind. He was expecting an answer. She looked at the symbol for a moment as she tried to decide where it would go. She hadn’t given much thought to tattoos in her life. She didn’t think she’d ever have the money for ink. It didn’t matter before. But now it did.

For the first time, it struck Amira just what exactly she was getting herself into. This wasn’t just a job for her to complete. It certainly wasn’t for Knock Out, or any of the other Decepticons. This was a choice that would affect the rest of her life. This was life or death.

“Left shoulder,” she said quietly after a moment, pointing to it for further emphasis. The artist nodded and picked up the pad.

“Alright. I’ll get this lined and call you back when I’m ready,” she said before disappearing into one of the cubicles. Knock Out leaned against the counter, which Amira now realized was actually a display case containing a collection of different piercings.

“I would have told you, but I was just told a cycle ago and we were a bit occupied,” Knock Out said by way of explanation. She only hummed as she looked over a few of the different stainless steel piercings.

“So you guys are really serious about this?”

“About what?”

“About me joining you.”

“What, you thought we were just joking?”

“Kind of.” Amira ran a hand over the back of her neck before looking at him. “Honestly, I didn’t think you were going to actually take me in. I don’t… People don’t give me this much attention. Ever. So yeah, I was suspicious. To be honest, I still am.” Knock Out didn’t say anything to that. He just stared at her with that same look he’d had earlier. The idea of him pitying her soured Amira’s mood and she stepped back from the display case, walking over to the sitting area and plopping down on the couch.

They didn’t talk for the rest of the time it took to prep the station. The tattooist took her into a closed off room so she could remove her hoodie and roll up her sleeve. The hair on her arm was shaved off and an alcohol swab wiped against the skin to sterilize it. She was then led back out into the main area and into the tattooist’s cubicle.

“Lay down on your side and don’t let your shoulder touch the chair,” the woman instructed as she checked over her equipment and gloved up. Amira climbed up into the chair and settled on her side, her shoulder facing the ceiling. She saw a flash of red and turned her head to find Knock Out’s holoform standing at the entrance of the cubicle.

“Stay still,” the artist said before holding up a slip of glossy paper. Amira stay still as the paper was pressed to her bare shoulder and smoothed over with a hand. After a moment of pressure, the paper was peeled away. The artist leaned back and grabbed a small hand mirror and held it up. “What do you think?” she asked. Amira stared at the reflection in the mirror.

The Decepticon insignia stared back at her. It was a little bit smaller than her hand, big enough to just start wrapping around her shoulder. She wanted to trace the outer linework, but refrained from doing so as she looked over the rest of the details. She found herself smiling slightly at the outline before turning to Knock Out. He took a step closer and leaned down to get a better look. He gave a hum of approval before stepping back.

“Looks good,” he said with that familiar purr. Amira didn’t hide her eye roll this time. She turned back to the artist and smiled again.

“I like it. Let’s do it.”

“Alright,” the tattooist said as she set the mirror aside and picked up the needle gun. “Take a deep breath and let it out slowly.” Amira laid back in the chair and took in as deep a breath as she could manage. She grimaced slightly at how her ribs ached at the movement but tried to ignore it as she let it out. Her breath stuttered as the needle made contact with her skin and began the first sweep of line work. She worked through her breaths and picked at her fingers to distract herself.

Knock Out, seeming to notice the strange tension, began to chat with the tattoo artist to pass the time. He was very curious about the tattooing process, asking any question he could think of concerning the tools, the ink, and the aftercare. Amira made a point to pay attention when they talked about that last one.

It was about two and a half hours later when the artist finally pulled away the needle gun and wiped off the finished piece. “Alright, girl. You’re good to go,” she said. Amira let out the breath she’d been holding and unclenched her hands. Knock Out stayed where he was as the artist wrapped up Amira’s shoulder in a thin wrap. She gave Amira the rundown on the aftercare and recommended a few gels and washes they also sold in the shop. Amira sat up and slid off the chair, careful not to move her arm too much.

Amira walked over to the body mirror hanging on the nearby wall to see the finished piece. The clear wrap allowed her to take in every detail. The lines were thin and crisp, looking like they’d been sprayed on with a stencil instead of tattooed on. The violet coloring shimmered vibrantly and the shading made it look almost 3D. She couldn’t help her smile this time, letting it take over her face as she admired her very own insignia. Something warm began to grow inside her chest as she took it all in. She caught Knock Out in the reflection of the mirror and turned to face him.

“What do you think?” she said as she showed off the tattoo, her smile never wavering. Knock Out watched her for a moment before he grinned.

“I think it suits you,” he hummed as he took a step towards her. She held out her arm to him to let him get a closer look. He looked over the fresh ink and hummed in thought. “You’re bleeding,” he said as he motioned to the red skin surrounding the piece.

“Well, yeah. I was just stabbed over and over again with a needle,” Amira replied, amusement in her tone.

“Glad you like it, hun,” the artist said as she threw away her gloves and stood up from her stool. “I’ll check you out at the front and get you some gel and wash.” Amira nodded as she grabbed her hoodie and made her way to the front, Knock Out following behind her.

 

* * *

 

They had driven for a few minutes before a groundbridge finally opened up for them. Knock Out had sighed with relief as they passed through and were once again aboard the Nemesis. He transformed without a word, keeping Amira in his hand as he walked down the hallway.

“Thank Primus. I was getting so many cramps,” he groaned as he stretched momentarily.

“I bet,” Amira hummed as she sat up in his hand. She took a moment to look up at him before speaking. “Do I need to report to Soundwave?”

“I already informed him that we made it back onboard. I also told him that it’s late and you need your recharge before having an audience with him.” She was confused by this rather considerate gesture, but didn’t question it as she wrapped a hand around one of his fingers.

“Hey, Knock Out?”

“Hm?” She swallowed the lump in her throat.

“Thank you for today.” He paused for a moment, coming to a stop in the corridor to look down at her. The confusion on his face was easy to read. “I had fun today. I didn’t realize just how badly I needed to get off the ship. And as much as it pains me to admit it, you aren’t so bad to hang out with.” He blinked in supposed shock before that familiar smirk returned.

“Well, of course. Any bot would be lucky to spend even a cycle with me.”

“Aaand you ruined it.” Amira turned away from him, rolling her eyes as he laughed before continuing the walk to the medbay.

“So you admit that you enjoy my company.”

“You killed the moment. It’s dead now. Hope you’re proud,” she said simply as they entered the medbay. Breakdown was putting something into the main computer and turned when the door opened. His grin was one of those rare ones that Amira had only seen a handful of times whenever he’d seen Knock Out after a long shift.

“I was starting to think you’d gone native, doc,” Breakdown teased as he finished up whatever he’d been working on. Knock Out scoffed as he set Amira down on her usual countertop before advancing on the Wrecker.

“I’d make you eat those words, but I’m too exhausted to bother,” he groaned as he leaned his head against the broad expanse of Breakdown’s chest. Amira was surprised by the rather intimate display - a feeling that was reflected on Breakdown’s face.

“Long day?” he asked.

“You have no idea,” the medic huffed as he leaned back. “Be a darling and run an oil bath? My joints need it.”

“Course,” Breakdown agreed before making his way to the door. Amira knew that, had they been a human couple, or any other couple, she would have gagged. But seeing the medic and the Wrecker acting so familiar and soft with each other only made that warmth in her chest grow even more.

“Hey, Breakdown! You have to see this!” she called out to him as he passed her perch on the countertop. He paused for a klik to turn his attention to her. She held up her shoulder, showing off the Decepticon insignia now emblazoned on her left shoulder. She saw his yellow eyes widen slightly before turning to Knock Out. He looked back at her and leaned forward to get a better look.

“So, you got your brand, yeah?”

“You like?” she asked as her smile widened. He grunted with approval as he got even closer.

“S’it supposed to be all red?”

“Oh, no. That’ll go away in a few days once the wound heals.”

She went on to tell Breakdown all about the day she’d had, leaving no detail out. It took a clearing of the throat and a sharp glare from Knock Out for Breakdown to finally leave the medbay to run that promised oil bath. Amira moved to her staircase and climbed the steps two at a time before crossing the walkway that lead to the door to her private quarters. She stopped at the door before turning to look at Knock Out again.

“Good night, Knock Out,” she called out to the medic. He paused his reading over a report to look up at her. He stared at her for a moment before answering.

“Good night.” She gave him another small nod before exiting the medbay and entering her quarters. Most of her things had been placed along the walkway and a few had been pushed just inside. She took a few minutes to move everything inside and out of the way for the night. She made a note to herself to spend what time she had tomorrow putting away and organizing everything.

She opened one of the bags and pulled out a new pair of pajamas. Her heart gave a small flutter at the clothes. She quickly changed into them before walking into her small washroom. She held up the tattoo in front of the mirror and just stood there, admiring it.

She couldn’t believe she’d really done this. She couldn’t believe a lot of things right now, it seemed. She never thought she’d have a day like today, a day where she didn’t have to think about her immediate survival or the constant threat that living on the streets presented to her.

She was in a room built specifically for her, wearing pajamas that she’d chosen herself and paid for. She had food and a warm bed and more paint than she knew what to do with. She had the company of a strange but somehow pleasant group of beings.

She had a purpose.

Amira could feel the tears coming, but as she smiled at the tattoo in her reflection, she didn’t try to fight them off. This was without a doubt the best day of her life.

 

* * *

 

Knock Out huffed as he read over the medical reports. Thankfully, there had only been two incidents that required medical attention, and they were both minor enough that Breakdown could handle them alone. Even so, he didn’t want to relax until he knew for certain that everything was in order.

As he scrolled through his messages for anything noteworthy, he thought back to how the human had smiled at him. He wasn’t a stranger to the behavior she’d displayed today. She had been difficult in the beginning because she’d been embarrassed. He couldn’t blame her for that. She hadn’t known what to get for herself most of the time, and she still treated food as if it would be taken away from her at any moment. All learned behavior from living on the streets.

He thought back to the countless mechs who’d suffered a similar fate back on Cybertron. He remembered just how spark splitting the hunger and the fear had been. He understood the fleshie’s pain - more than he ever cared to share with her.

But when they’d gone into that parlor, the human’s face had lit up after she’d understood that she was receiving her own brand. He remembered how in the old days, they would hold a branding ceremony for new recruits. Even if they still did such things, he doubted that Megatron would hold such festivities for her.

But she hadn’t seemed to notice or care. She’d taken the mark without complaint and shown such undiluted joy in the finished product. She’d looked at him like he was the most important mech on the planet - like she truly was happy to take the Decepticon brand, and all the duties that came with it.

For the first time since the human had come aboard the Nemesis, Knock Out wondered if perhaps he had made a horrible mistake.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Twenty. Six. Pages. 11,140 words. WHY DO I DO THIS TO MYSELF?
> 
> Worth it though. And yay! Finally some Amira and KO bonding that doesn't involve (too many) insults!
> 
> I made a playlist for Amira that I listen to whenever I'm writing her. Here it is! - https://soundcloud.com/geminiwishes/sets/amira  
> Enjoy! ^-^


	9. Where Your Loyalties Lie

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a heads up - there will be depictions of firearms and death in this chapter.
> 
> Read on at your own discretion.  
> -  
> Like what you see? Come check out my Tumblr and shoot me a message! I love hearing from you guys!
> 
> https://www.google.com/url?sa=t&source=web&rct=j&url=http://geminiwishes.tumblr.com/&ved=2ahUKEwjI2ePR0rniAhVMeawKHXCYB18QFjAAegQICBAC&usg=AOvVaw24zaMp81HoMPcDZIslJis9

“Prime, we have a situation.” Ratchet looked up from the circuitry he’d been soldering to glance at the main computer. Bumblebee and Arcee stopped talking and even Bulkhead looked up from the TV after getting Miko to mute it. Optimus paused his own work to expand the call screen.

“Agent Fowler, what seems to be the trouble?”

“I just got word that we got a hit on one Gina Ramirez in Minnesota. Problem is, Gina Ramirez supposedly was missing years ago.” Ratchet rolled his optics with frustration.

“Forgive me, Agent Fowler, but I do not see why you are contacting us about this?”

“I’m contacting you because she went missing along with a handful of other people on the same night the Decepticons initially came to Earth. She was presumed dead when investigators found evidence of her abduction.” That got the Autobots’ attention. Ratchet and Optimus shared a worried look.

“What was the nature of Miss Ramirez’ reappearance?”

“Credit card activity, oddly enough. Records show that someone used her card for multiple purchases in Bloomington, Minnesota. They spent almost three thousand dollars, which shouldn’t be possible, given that Miss Ramirez didn’t possess those kind of funds.” Optimus’ frown deepened slightly with confusion.

“If I may, Agent Fowler. What sort of things were purchased?”

“We don’t have a list of the exact items, but we do have a list of the places they went and how much they spent. I’m sending it to you now.” There was a shuffling sound on Fowler’s end before he continued. “Prime, I don’t know why the Cons would need to use a civilian’s credit card or why they’d even need money, but I need answers and soon. They spent a lot and we’re doing our best to compensate.”

“You have our word, Agent Fowler. We will find the reason for this course of action and respond accordingly.”

“See that you do, Prime.” Without another word, Fowler ended the call. A moment later, the aforementioned list popped up on the screen and Ratchet took over, enlarging the list to properly read it.

“Two Con sightings near the US-Canadian border? Optimus, that can’t be a coincidence,” Arcee said, her face set in a look of suspicion. Bumblebee beeped in agreement.

“But why would Megatron want to buy anything?” Jack asked from his place on the sofa next to Miko. “If he wanted something, wouldn’t he just steal it?”

“Yeah,” Miko agreed as she got up, “And why would he want something from a store? Usually he breaks into military bases, right?”

“According to the details Agent Fowler has provided,” Ratchet answered as he read over the message, “there were substantial purchases at more than a few human establiments rather close together.”

“Can I see?” Raf asked as he set his laptop aside and hopped out of his computer chair. Ratchet stepped to the side to allow the small human a better view. Rafael pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose and read over the report. He frowned after a moment. “This doesn’t make any sense.”

“What?” Jack asked.

“The places they went… They don’t make any sense. They started at a Wal-Mart, and from there, I’m seeing a lot of clothing stores. There’s a bookstore on here, an art supply store, and a receipt for a tattoo shop.”

“Sounds like a mall,” Miko commented. She crossed her legs and leaned back against the couch. “They got all kinds of shops in malls. There’s a lot you could buy from one.”

“But why would the Cons care about human clothes?” Bulkhead asked, looking to Miko as if he hoped she had an answer.

She merely shrugged and said “Maybe Starscream finally decided to wear something to match his heels.” She grinned at that and Bulkhead couldn’t help but snort.

“What if it’s for that human?” Jack said quietly. Everyone paused for a moment, trying to picture the possibility.

“You mean the one they took?” Miko asked. “Dude, that was weeks ago. There’s no way she’s still alive.” She looked up at Ratchet, frowning. “...Right?”

“It would definitely explain all the places they went,” Raf mused aloud, rubbing his chin in thought.

“But why would they want to give her clothes? The Cons don’t care about humans,” Arcee argued. “They’d sooner toss a human off their ship than take care of one.” She grimaced at the thought, but there was no point in trying to dance around the fact. The Decepticons had made it very clear what they thought of the planet’s native species.

“Maybe they want something from her?” Raf guessed.

“Unlikely,” Ratchet interjected. “I highly doubt a human with no position of authority would have anything of value for Megatron. In all likelihood, she is being groomed. Though for what, I can’t be certain.”

“Groomed?” asked Miko. “Like combing her hair?”

“Not that kind of groomed,” Jack answered quietly, his face going a bit pale at the implications. Arcee felt her plating stiffen at the sight of her partner’s internal strife. She turned back to Optimus and took a step towards him.

“Optimus, we have to do something. We have a pattern of sorts now. We can’t keep waiting for more clues to fall into our servos.”

[What exactly can we do though?] Bee clicked. [We have two locations that are hundreds of miles apart. It would take forever to cover an area that large.]

“I’m afraid that Bumblebee has a point,” Optimus finally said, drawing everyone’s attention. “Given the coordinates of these Decepticon sightings, there is little that can be done. Nevertheless, Arcee is also correct. We can no longer afford to wait idly for further information. Until we have evidence that the human is offline, we will treat this as a rescue mission.”

“So… what _are_ we gonna do?” asked Bulkhead. They all watched their Prime as he mulled over the question, piecing together a solution. After a moment, he turned to face Ratchet.

“Ratchet, it seems the time has come to contact Wheeljack once more.”

“Optimus?” Arcee said, silently asking the question they all were thinking.

“I believe we will have need of the Jackhammer.”

 

* * *

 

Amira grimaced slightly as she lightly dabbed the soap-soaked cotton ball over her shoulder. The skin surrounding her tattoo wasn’t red anymore, but it was still sensitive. She had finished her morning routine earlier than usual to give herself time to take proper care of her tattoo before beginning her work for the day. She patted the skin dry with a clean cloth and examined the fresh ink in the mirror again.

The glisten of the ink had lessened slightly since she’d first gotten it, but in the four days since then, she’d noticed that there was still a sheen to it that didn’t seem to be going away. She smiled as she traced over one of the outer lines of the insignia again.

She’d taken immense pleasure in showing off her new tattoo these past few days. She wore sleeveless shirts and made a point of showing it off in front of anyone who came into the medbay.

She still snickered when she remembered how Starscream had reacted the first time he’d noticed it. He had blanched for a moment before going into a tirade, demanding to know ‘why the human wore the Decepticon insignia’ and ‘who gave the fleshling permission to have that’.

She still wasn’t sure which part had been better - his initial reaction, or the way he’d seemed to shrink in on himself when Knock Out had told him that Megatron had ordered that she take the brand. Starscream had started muttering to himself as his wings drooped slightly and snapped something she hadn’t caught as he left the medbay.

Margaret had taken it much better. They’d asked to get a closer look and had been very interested to learn about the process of tattooing. They were like a sponge when it came to new information, and she briefly wondered if all the Vehicons were as curious to learn as them.

Once she’d finished cleaning her shoulder, Amira pulled on a new pair of sneakers and tightened the laces. Decked out in a simple pair of jeans and a sleeves top, she left her quarters and entered the main medbay.

She was greeted with the tall, dark, looming figure of Soundwave. His back was to her as he focused on something on the medical slab in front of him. She could see Knock Out off to the side, putting some sort of data into a computer.

“Scans show no indications of viruses or faulty coding of any kind,” the medic said with an air of confidence. Amira quietly made her way along the walkway, her eyes glued to the scene in front of her. “Energon levels are excellent along with spark rate. I think it’s safe to say that Lazerbeak remains in perfect health, Soundwave.” Knock Out turned to meet Soundwave’s gaze, showing off that confident smirk he saved for whenever he was particularly pleased with himself.

Amira was closer to her usual spot on the nearby counter and now had a much better view of who or what was taking up all of Soundwave’s attention. A small, winged thing was laid out on the slab, lifting its head up to meet Soundwave’s finger, which he was running along it in an almost intimate gesture. The metal creature made a soft buzzing noise that almost sounded like a coo and something flashed across Soundwave’s visor.

“Who’s this?” Amira finally asked. Knock Out flinched slightly, having not noticed her presence until just now. Soundwave merely tilted his visor towards her in silent acknowledgement before turning back to the creature on the medical slab.

“Someone should put a bell on you,” Knock Out snapped as he stepped away from the computer.

“And someone should put a tire boot on you,” she shot back. They glared at each other for a moment before he rolled his eyes and picked up a datapad. Amira chose to not say anything about the small smile she saw on his face as he turned away.

“This,” Knock Out said as he stepped closer to the medical slab, “is Lazerbeak. She’s Soundwave’s minicon.” He tapped something on the screen of his datapad before looking up at Soundwave again. “Everything checks out fine. She’s fit for duty.”

“What’s a minicon?” As if in answer, Soundwave took a step back as Lazerbeak hovered off the the slab and moved closer to his chest. She watched in awe as the minicon attached to his chest and folded away inside of him. “Woah.”

Soundwave ran a hand over Lazerbeak’s form before turning to face Amira. She straightened slightly in place and met his gaze. He stared at her for a long moment before he took the few steps it took to cross the space between them, leaning forward to bring his visor closer to her. Amira had to fight the urge to take a step back to regain some personal space.

Despite Knock Out’s assurances, Amira hadn’t seen Soundwave since her shopping spree. He still sent her data packets every day, so he obviously still knew she existed, but he hadn’t summoned her or tried to seek her out. She was still learning all of the rules and regulations that their military followed, but she was sure she was doing something wrong by not ever reporting to him in person.

It seemed that was about to be amended.

Something flashed across Soundwave’s visor too fast for her to catch it. Honestly, why did he bother doing that at her when she had no hope of understanding him? Her frustration must have been showing in her expression because Soundwave’s visor backed away just a tad. She tilted her head in confusion, about to ask what he was doing, when she caught sight of a hand reaching towards her.

She couldn’t help but flinch as that hand came even closer to her. Soundwave paused for a moment before his visor lit up again, displaying the Decepticon insignia. Amira couldn’t help but compare it to a screen saver before its meaning caught on.

“Oh! You wanted to see my…” she turned slightly to show him her shoulder, gesturing to the tattoo. Soundwave only nodded before reaching for her again. Slim, meticulous fingers carefully took her hand and lifted it up, encouraging her to move a bit closer to allow Soundwave a better view. Amira held her breath as he stared at the freshly inked flesh of her shoulder, his gave unwavering as he seemed to take in every detail.

The communications officer gave a small nod and let go of her hand. He straightened up to his full height then, still looking down at her. His visor flickered to life once more, displaying a straight line that began to bounce and twitch as an audio clip began to play.

 _“Have the human brought to me. I believe it is time for the grub to start earning its keep.”_ The deep, scratchy rumble was instantly recognizable as that of Megatron’s voice. Even as a mere recording, the Decepticon leader’s baritone made her shudder involuntarily from intimidation.

So, Lord Megatron wished to see her?

Amira had been expecting it to happen eventually. Despite just how little she needed compared to the other soldiers, Amira doubted Megatron would continuously waste his and his officers’ time with her without giving her some sort of job. She was actually a bit relieved, despite herself. At least if she was doing some kind of work, she wouldn’t feel like a glorified exotic pet.

“If you’ll let me, I’d like to take the walkways there. It seems a waste to have installed them if I never actually use them.”

 _“Quickly.”_ The nasally whine of Starscream’s voice sounded slightly off-kilter when Soundwave filtered it through his speaker, but she only nodded her thanks before taking one of the walkways up a flight of stairs and out into the hallway.

Amira had made it a point to memorize the way to the bridge from the medbay, but she had always been carried before. Walking on her own only dragged out the distance, which only made her question whether or not she really knew the way. A few Vehicons passed by as she made her way through the halls, seeming to ignore her.

As Amira turned the last corner before entering the bridge, she ran her fingers through the dark waves of hair that hung out of her ponytail. She doubted the Decepticons cared what she looked like - they seemed disgusted with her no matter what she wore - but she still made an effort to be presentable in front of their leader. _My leader_ , she thought before passing through the small doorway that had been cut out for her, allowing her entrance into the bridge.

The bridge was quickly becoming a familiar scene for Amira as she made her way along the walkway that snaked along the wall. There were fewer Vehicons at the computer stations this time and Soundwave’s usual workstation was vacant as well.

Standing at the front of the bridge was Megatron, staring up at the enormous screen that was currently displaying what looked to be a map of East Asia. He was standing at military rest, his hands folded behind his back and his shoulders settled as he read over a set of coordinates. Amira watched him for a minute, mesmerized by the sheer power his appearance wrought within her.

In the time that she’d been on the Nemesis, Amira had learned quite a bit about the lord of the Decepticons. He’d been a lowly mining drone who’d been sent to the gladiator pits of Kaon as punishment for insubordination. For years, he was forced to slaughter other Cybertronians for entertainment. But despite it all, Megatron had taken the time to look at the world around him and dared to dream of something better - not just for himself, but for all of Cybertron. He spoke out against the rigid caste system and corruption that plagued their world, and the Senate had responded by sending the Autobots after him to silence him forever.

She had to admit that she was impressed. It took balls to do what Megatron had done to ensure that he and the Decepticons stood a chance against their enemies - she wasn’t sure if she could have ever done that.

But he had.

And he and the Decepticons were now winning the war.

She refused to fail them. Not with all of the lives lost to get this far. Not when they were this close.

“Lord Megatron,” she called out. She’d never been alone when facing him before. Usually Knock Out would be the one to call his leader’s attention, but now it was up to her to address Megatron and speak with him.

Brilliant violet eyes turned to meet her own dark brown. Amira straightened her back and bowed her head slightly, if only to not have to meet his piercing stare.

“I was told you wanted to see me.” He hummed in acknowledgement and consideration.

“Show me your badge, human.” The command sent a trill through Amira, and she had to fight to not rush her response. She had to present a calm and collected front if she wanted any hope of being taken seriously, she told herself.

She obediently twisted her body to the side to allow Megatron an unobstructed view of her tattoo. Megatron took a step towards her, his eyes trained on her shoulder. Amira fought against the nervous wriggling in the pit of her stomach as he drew closer to her.

She didn’t know how to explain it, but whenever Megatron was close to her, he seemed to give off this air of danger that she could _feel,_ just as she could feel her hair tickling her cheeks. It put all of her senses on high alert and despite herself, Amira kept a close eye on his movements.

Amira waited for Megatron to reach out for her the same way Soundwave had, but he made no move to touch her. Instead, he simply ran his eyes over the tattoo’s design before humming and straightening his back again. The scaffolding she stood on was at eye level with the Vehicons, which made sense since they were the ones to construct them. But that meant that she had to  crane her head back quite a ways to meet Megatron’s eye.

“I must say, I’m surprised by your persistence. When I ordered you to take the Decepticon brand, I did not expect you to actually follow through.” Amira held up her chin a little higher but did not speak. Megatron’s sharp teeth glinted as he grinned wickedly down at her.

“It seems that you do indeed intend to stay amongst my ranks.” His glare narrowed slightly as his grin morphed into a sneer. “Do not take this honor lightly. No human has ever attempted to join the Decepticons, but that does not mean you will be given special treatment. You will be expected to carry out your duties with the same efficiency as any other soldier, no matter the difficulty. Do you understand, human?”

“Yes, Lord Megatron.”

“You will put the cause above everything else. Above your comrades. Above your morals. Above your very life.” The warlord’s chest puffed up slightly with a sense of authority and command that froze Amira to the spot. “Do you understand?”

“Yes, Lord Megatron.”

“Just how far are you willing to go, human?” She didn’t hesitate.

“What is it you would have me do?”

Megatron silently assessed her, no doubt searching for any kind of weakness in her body language that would argue otherwise. Amira subconsciously stiffened her posture, doing her best to emulate the perfect soldier.

After an agonizing minute of his unwavering gaze, Megatron gave a satisfied hum and turned back towards the map on the screen. Amira’s eyes flickered between the map and Megatron, unsure of what to say or do after being presumably approved for duty.

Megatron studied the map for a moment before speaking again, his eyes never leaving the screen.

“As you know, we have not been on your planet for very long. However, Cybertronians have visited your world in the past, both Autobots and Decepticons.” Amira said nothing as she watched his fingers flex into fists behind his back. “In the time since they left, you humans have managed to get your greedy little digits on the artifacts they left behind.”

Amira tried her best to not flinch at that last part. ‘ _You_ humans’. She hated it when she was bunched together with the rest of her species.

“Recently, we managed to recover a Cybertronian artifact that was left on this planet vorns ago” - vorns, Amira knew that was a unit of time, but she had no idea how long it was - “and during the artifact’s recovery, we found evidence that the humans had first possessed the device.” A sound escaped the warlord that Amira could only guess was a scoff or a snort. “They worshipped it. Treated it as if it were a gift from a deity.”

His eyes flickered over towards her then.

“They weren’t very far off. Soon enough, the humans will know me as their god.”

A teeny-tiny, microscopic voice in the deepest recesses of Amira's mind snorted at the arrogance in his tone - Celebrating a bit early, aren’t we? - but she stayed silent still as he looked back at the map.

“I want to know more about the supposed use of Cybertronian technology by your ancestors. Soundwave and the rest of my intelligence division have far too much to do as it is, so the task falls to you.”

Amira frowned slightly at the request. He wanted ancient human history? It seemed… underwhelming didn’t feel like the right word. Lackluster, perhaps? She’d been reading Cybertronian history for weeks now and the idea of going back to simple human history held no real appeal to her. But if that’s what he wanted…

“Is there-” she paused for a moment to gather her nerve, “-is there anything in particular you wanted me to look for?”

Megatron only waved a hand in her direction before saying “Anything that has solid evidence. Pictures of unreadable text or perhaps artifacts that the humans never managed to identify.” He glanced her way once more. “You will report to Soundwave with your findings. I expect results within half a deca-cycle.”

Amira made a mental note to ask either Knock Out or Breakdown how long a deca-cycle was.

She nodded and gave a small bow at her waist.

“I will see what I can find, my lord.”

Megatron only grunted as he waved those sharp claws in a dismissive gesture. She took that as permission to leave and walked quickly out of the bridge.

Even with her fast pace, it look a minute or two to exit the bridge. Amira grimaced at the realization that she would have to work on her speed if she wanted to have any hope of keeping up with her upcoming workload.

 

* * *

 

 

“Remind me why you’re followin’ me?” asked Breakdown as he tilted his head in her direction. Amira was trailing slightly behind him, power walking along her walkways to keep up.

“Because,” she answered as she held up a small paper bag, “I need to eat before I start working. You’re going to the mess hall, so I’m going too.”

“You don’t have to refuel in the mess hall,” Breakdown argued as he made another turn.

“Knock Out gave me the standard ‘No noise or I cut you’ speech, so I can’t eat in the medbay. And I don’t want to eat in my room. So yeah, I do.” She picked up the pace until she was side by side with him before adding, “Besides, you know you love it when I tag along.”

“Like a bot loves scraplets,” he grumbled. Amira’s answering smirk only made him roll his eyes again. He did his best to ignore her for the rest of the walk to the mess hall.

When Breakdown turned the last corner, Amira came to an abrupt halt as her walkway came to an end.

“Hey! A little help?” she called out to him. Breakdown only spared her a passing glance over his shoulder before he disappeared in the mess hall with a satisfied grin on his face.

“Well, fuck you too then,” she grumbled, glaring at the spot where he’d been a moment ago. Now how was she going to get to the mess hall?

Thankfully, she didn’t have to think about it for too long.

“What are you doing?” asked a familiar voice. Amira’s eye lit up as she came face to face with a Vehicon.

“Margaret?” she said hopefully. A blip of red light ran across the length of the Vehicon’s visor before they slowly nodded.

“Why are you just standing here? You’re a long way from the medbay.”

“Well, I was going to eat my lunch in the mess hall, but I guess whoever was in charge of where these walkways go didn’t think I’d need to go there, so I’m stuck. And Breakdown just left me here because he’s a jackass.” She held up her bagged lunch before asking, “Any chance you’d be willing to carry me? I can tell you about the assignment I just got.” Margaret shifted side to side with indecision, glancing towards the entrance to the mess hall.

“I’m not sure if I should-”

“It involves ancient human history~”

 

* * *

 

“So, how are you going to do this? You don’t exactly know what Cybertronian artifacts look like.” Margaret was fiddling with a half-drained energon cube as they tapped the table-top with a digit. Amira only hummed through a mouthful of apple before swallowing.

“I have _some_ idea of what to look for, and I know enough about the general design of Cybertronian tech that I should be alright. And I can always run anything I find by Soundwave or Knock Out to make sure.” She could feel eyes on her from multiple directions, but made a point of ignoring them as she took another bite out of her apple.

When they had entered the mess hall, Amira became aware very quickly that almost every Vehicon surrounding both her and Margaret was openly staring at her. It was unsettling, but Amira was long past the point of trying to make herself seem weak and feeble in front of the others.

She was mostly just confused as to why they were paying so much attention to her now after all the times she’d come in here before.

“How exactly do humans keep records?” asked Margaret, drawing her attention back to the Vehicon sitting before her.

“Lots of ways. They have entire buildings filled with books available for anyone to come and read. There’s also the internet - thousands of online articles and message boards for anyone to add to. Film is sometimes good too. Some humans will watch documentaries about anything.” That seemed to pique Margaret’s interest as they tilted their head in what Amira was starting to recognize as an expression of intrigue.

“Film, you say?”

“Yeah. What, you interested?” Margaret’s answering nod was surprisingly enthusiastic.

“We’ve been looking for something new to watch since we finished those vids that Joey found.”

Joey, Amira guessed, must be one of the Vehicons assigned to Margaret’s squadron.

“What kind of vids were they?” she asked as she finished up her apple.

“It was a program involving six humans who had rather comedic adventures. Joey loved it and we decided that he should adopt his favorite character’s name.”

“Was this show called Friends, by any chance?”

“Yes, that’s it!”

‘Of course’ Amira thought. Friends was a cultural juggernaut of a series. It wasn’t completely farfetched to assume that even aliens would discover it.

“So, humans make films about the past as well?”

“Well, yeah. Not all of it is true, but there are tons of documentaries that talk about ancient civilizations and junk. I’ll have to try and see what I can find before I give you a list.”

“That would be--”

“Margaret!” a loud, boisterous voice boomed before another Vehicon threw an arm around Margaret’s shoulder. Margaret gripped the half-filled energon cube to keep it from spilling as they lurched in their seat from the added weight. They turned to stare at the other soldier, and despite the fact that they couldn’t emote, Amira had the feeling that Margaret was glaring at the newcomer.

“Get your servo off of me, Joey,” Margaret snapped. The mech - Joey - gave their shoulder a quick pat before relenting, choosing instead to pull up a stool to sit at their table. Amira grimaced with irritation at the stranger who was inviting themself into a private conversation.

“Do you mind?” she snapped, drawing Joey’s attention away from Margaret. The Vehicon tilted their head to the side before leaning forward slightly.

“Huh. So you’re the new pet?”

“Excuse me?”

“Where’s Breakdown? Did you run away or somethin’?” Amira openly gaped at the Vehicon, utterly shocked at the blatant statement. She spared a quick glance over to Margaret, finding them running a hand over their visor in a show of annoyance. She turned back when a shadow drew near, finding that Joey was reaching out a hand towards her.

“Whoa!” she exclaimed as she shot to her feet and stepped back. The hand coming towards her paused as Joey stared down at her.

“What - no petting? I thought you’d at least be trained well enough to be susceptible to pets.” Liquid fire swirled in Amira’s gut as she glowered at them, her hands curled into white-knuckled fists.

“Call me a pet one more time. I fucking dare you.” Her tone was low and even, calm in a way that promised violence. Joey slowly drew back their hand in confusion before Margaret spoke up.

“Joey, she’s not a pet. The human is training under Soundwave to be an espionage agent.” That only confused Joey even more, if the mech’s neck practically snapping as they turned to look at Margaret was any indication.

“Wha-?”

“Do yourself a favor and shut up,” Margaret added before peering down at Amira. “Don’t mind Joey. He’s notorious for thinking before his processor can stop him.” They exaggerated the point by knocking their knuckles against the side of Joey’s head with a dull clunk. Joey rubbed a hand over his head before looking back down at her.

“Uh, sorry, I guess? I just… Well, I haven’t ever seen you without the doc or Breakdown nearby and figured now was my chance to see what all the fuss was about.”

Amira blinked as sudden realization washed over her. That was why everyone was staring at her - because she wasn’t with any of the higher ups. Had this really been the first time she’d been out of the medbay without any of the officers nearby?

It had been relatively early in the morning when she’d walked to the bridge to speak with Megatron, and the Vehicons she had seen had been going through what she assumed to be morning drills. She frowned at the implications that created - that she was a feeble little creature that needed constant surveillance.

“Is there a reason you came over here and interrupted our conversation? Or did you just want to oogle the human?” Margaret inquired. Joey’s posture straightened as his visor brightened with delight.

“You check your messages? We got word that they’re cutting down on patrols around our sector, so we’ve got new hours! Me and a few mechs were gonna look for something else to watch and I wanted to invite you.”

Amira took note as Margaret’s annoyance seemed to slowly melt away, their body language suggesting something along the lines of intrigue.

“So,” Joey singsonged, “You interested?”

“I might have something that we can watch,” Margaret offered in answer. Joey leaned into Margaret’s personal space as he put his hands together in a gesture of eager curiosity.

“What is it?”

“It’s a surprise.” Joey sat back in his seat, his shoulders falling slightly.

“It’s not gonna be a bunch of training vids, is it? It’s already bad enough when Amy picks ‘em.”

“No. And that’s all I’ll say about it. You’ll just have to wait like everyone else to find out what it is.”

Joey obviously wanted to push it further, but he was interrupted by a long tone that buzzed from the overhead speakers. Joey visibly deflated slightly before standing up.

“That’s time. I gotta get back to the engine room,” he said as he held up a hand in farewell. Margaret returned the gesture before Joey disappeared alongside the rest of the Vehicons who also had to leave the mess hall. Amira watched the rather boisterous soldier leave before returning her attention back to Margaret.

“A surprise, huh?” Margaret only shrugged in defense.

“You made it sound rather interesting. I’m sure you will be able to find something suitable for me and my squad.”

“No pressure or anything,” Amira deadpanned. Margaret only brought their energon cube up to their intake to finish off the rest of their ration.

 

* * *

 

Amira and Margaret finished their conversation soon enough when the overhead speaker buzzed again. Margaret disposed of their empty cube before offering Amira a lift back to the walkways, which she gladly accepted.

Amira thanked Margaret for the assistance and promised to contact them when she had gathered a few vids for them to choose from. Margaret had responded by giving Amira their personal comm frequency and asking her to message them through that before bidding her farewell.

After half an hour of walking, Amira finally managed to make it back to the medbay, letting out a sigh of relief as she opened the door and stepped inside.

Only to come to a halt at the sight before her.

Breakdown had Knock Out pinned against a nearby wall, effortlessly holding Knock Out up with one arm wrapped under his legs, while the other held a large buffing tool. Knock Out allowed the manhandling as he traced sharpened claws along the sides of Breakdown’s face with a rare expression of calm amusement. His smile widened as Breakdown leaned up to press their lips together.

Amira groaned slightly as she rolled her eyes, consequently drawing both mechs’ attention.

“Really? In the middle of the medbay?” She didn’t bother to give the twin glares she received any thought as she made her way up the walkway to cross the room. “You two really need to learn about putting a sock on the damn door.”

“I thought you said you locked the door,” Knock Out grumbled against Breakdown’s forehead before he was gently set down.

“I did,” Breakdown huffed, “I just didn’t think to lock _her_ door. Didn’t think she’d find her way back for a while.”

“Yeah, while we’re on that subject,” Amira stopped to grip the railing and lean over it slightly to glare at him, “What the hell, man? Thanks for leaving me behind, dick.” Breakdown’s only response was to shrug nonchalantly as he set the buffing tool aside.

Knock Out grumbled something under his breath that Amira couldn’t hear as he snatched up a forgotten datapad and began furiously tapping at it. Amira threw a vulgar gesture Breakdown’s way before crossing the walkway to get to her room, leaving the medic and his assistant alone once more.

 

* * *

 

It was official - Amira had lost any and all hope for humanity. She’d spent almost all of her time that she wasn’t coding reading online articles and watching documentaries about mysterious and strange archaeological finds. Some of the content she’d found had been perfectly fine - even mildly entertaining.

But a good chunk of it was complete and utter garbage. She’d gone through at least four seasons of Ancient Aliens and she could actually feel her brain withering away.

If she heard the term ‘ancient astronaut theorist’ one more time, she was going to lose it.

After a particularly head-bashing inducing episode, Amira snatched her sketchbook and a snack before heading back out into the medbay, eager to focus on something new.

Breakdown was stacking supplies along a far wall and Knock Out was nowhere to be found. Amira crossed the length of the medbay towards one of the cots, which was currently occupied by a Vehicon who had been put under after a mining accident. She stopped when she was standing right next to the cot and sat down, spreading out her snacks and pens before flipping open her sketchbook.

She’d done extensive studies of both Knock Out and Breakdown and had now moved onto Vehicons. She’d only been able to coerce Margaret into one quick sketch when they’d come in for a routine check up, but she wanted to do more detailed studies. Luckily, Vehicons in stasis lock made excellent models.

Amira swung her feet lazily over the edge of the walkway as she began to draw out the rough shapes of her sketch, the pencil making a soft scratching sound against the paper. Ever since she’d begun drawing Cybertronians, she’d gotten quite the brush up on perspective, and the results were starting to show.

She had just begun working on the detailed outlines of the soldier’s visor when she heard the familiar swish of the medbay doors opening and the sharp thud of giant metal footsteps.

“Knock Out!” a familiar figure screeched as he stumbled in. Amira watched as Starscream trudged into the medbay, looking for all the world as if he’d taken a nosedive off the side of a mountain.

He was covered in dents and scratches, some faint, but others more serious. Stray sparks jumped off of exposed wiring near the base of his wings and most predominantly around his mess of an arm. He cradled the twisted, crushed appendage in his other arm, and Amira wondered if perhaps that was the only thing keeping the limb attached.

Breakdown looked up from his organizing, blinking in surprise as he frowned at the Air Commander.

“The frag happened to you?” he grunted as he left the energon crates and advanced towards Starscream.

“Where is the doctor? I require medical attention!” Starscream snapped, ignoring Breakdown’s question.

“Out. He should be back soon if you wanna lay down,” Breakdown answered as he waved to one of the empty cots before opening up a comm to his conjunx. Starscream scowled at the insufficient answer but didn’t argue as he turned on his heel and stumbled toward the berth, practically falling onto it as he tried to arrange himself on the cold metal slab.

Amira watched him for a minute before picking up her things and moving closer to Starscream’s berth. She set her sketchbook down and plopped down, leaning against the cool metal railing as she observed the air commander’s restless frame.

“You look like hell,” she said by way of greeting. Starscream flinched slightly before his eyes landed on her. His lips pressed together in a thin line as he glowered at her with disgust.

“How observant you are, fleshie,” he hissed with annoyance.

“So what happened?” she asked, sitting down on the walkway and crossing her legs. Starscream scoffed at her as he glared up at the ceiling.

“I don’t see how that’s any of your concern.”

“You’re right. It isn’t,” Amira shrugged before leaning forward slightly with a grin and adding, “But you _really_ want to tell somebody so you can complain about it.” Starscream’s answering scowl was answer enough for her as her grin widened.

“You’re a pesky little worm, you know?”

“Worm! I think that’s a step-up from fleshie. Finally, some progress,” Amira retorted.

“Hey, I’ve been callin’ you grub for weeks. Don’t think there’s any progress to be had,” Breakdown chimed in as he walked over to Starscream’s cot with a medical scanner, ignoring Amira’s answering vulgar gesture. Starscream immediately stiffened and flinched away as the scanner passed over him.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

“Scannin’ you for a full report on your internal damages,” said Breakdown, stating the obvious.

“Shouldn’t Knock Out be the one doing that? He’s the chief medical officer.”

“I don’t need a medical license to push a button on a scanner,” Breakdown shot back as he read over the results. “I’ll message doc your injury report and he’ll let me know if I gotta do something before he gets here.” He didn’t wait for a reply, instead heading to the main computer to plug in the scanner’s data before sending it off to Knock Out.

Starscream huffed indignantly as leaned back in the berth, annoyance written all over his face.

A few minutes passed in relative silence, save for the quiet scritch of pencil on paper and the hum of the ship. Amira glanced up from her sketchbook to study Starscream again before speaking.

“You gonna tell me what happened now?”

Starscream glowered at her out of the corner of his eye.

“Don’t you have lessons to finish?”

“I’m taking a break, so you get to have me _all_ to yourself,” she singsonged, smirking at the flash of anguish and irritation in the seeker’s expression.

“I should squish you.”

“And I should kick you. Looks like neither of us is getting what we want though. So,” Amira adjusted herself in her seat, “You gonna tell me about how you got so banged up or not?”

Starscream opened his mouth to spew out another insult, no doubt, but before he could get a single word out, the medbay’s doors slid open and Knock Out entered.

“Doctor in the house,” he hummed as he casually picked at something on his grill.

“It’s about time,” Starscream snapped, glaring at the medic with a look that could have melted lesser bots on the spot. Amira didn’t bother to hide her smirk at his attitude.

Second-in-command indeed.

“Apologies, heir commandante. I was out for a little drive when I got Breakdown’s call.” He spared Starscream a casual glance before picking up a datapad that Amira had come to learn was used strictly for patient medical charts. “Now then, what did you do this time?”

Starscream spluttered with exasperation.

“Does this look like something I did to myself?!” he screeched, holding up his mangled arm as another round of sparks spluttered from the exposed wiring. Knock Out ran watchful eyes over the injury, his own lips pressing into a thin line as he set the datapad down and came up for a closer look.

“Honestly, Starscream, I can never really tell anymore when it comes to you.” He gently batted away Starscream’s good hand to support the injured limb himself, moving it this way and that to fully assess the extent of the damage.

“How did this happen?”

Amira brightened up slightly as she leaned in closer, eager to learn herself. Starscream sensed her unwavering interest and seemed to cringe as his eyes flicked back at her before returning to watching Knock Out handle his arm.

“...It would seem that our master does not wish for any input of any kind regarding the current turnout rates of the energon mines.” Knock Out only hummed in agreement before grabbing the datapad again and typing something in.

“Wait. Megatron did this to you?” Amira was frowning slightly now as she watched Starscream gently grasp his injury again in a vain attempt to alleviate the pain.

Starscream didn’t answer, seeming to choose to ignore her instead. Amira wanted to question him, but the words stuck to her tongue. It hadn’t occurred to her just what sort of punishment high command normally suffered for things like insubordination, but it seemed that now she had an answer.

A small thought wiggled around in the back of her mind, but she elected to ignore it for a much safer, more proactive course of action. She flipped through her sketchbook to a blank page and began rough sketches of Starscream’s form.

Might as well make use of the situation while she could.

Starscream seemed to forget Amira’s presence after awhile, focusing all of his attention on Knock Out as he proceeded to gripe about the events leading up to his current state along with anything else that had caused him distress over the last week. Knock Out hummed and nodded whenever Starscream paused, seeming only to humor the air commander as he focused on his examination.

Amira paid very little attention to Starscream’s complaints in favor of focusing on her drawing, having finished the rough shapes and beginning to work on darker, sharper lines. It wasn’t until she caught Starscream say “Autobots” that she started to listen more closely to what he was saying.

“Paranoid old fool. Just what does he believe they can accomplish? They have no space bridge, no energon holds, no allies!”

“You of all mechs should know better than to underestimate the Autobots, commander. They’ve gotten the best of you with fewer resources before.” Starscream’s answering growl did little to deter Knock Out as he went on. “Honestly, Starscream, I’m surprised you _aren’t_ as worried as Megatron. Usually when the Autobots go quiet like this, you’re cowering in the corner in a tinfoil hat.”

“A what?” the seeker asked.

Amira stifled a snicker at both the choice of words and the image Knock Out’s analogy brought up. Both officers glanced at her before she shook her head and looked back down at her sketchbook. Starscream glared at her for a moment, seemingly insulted by her existence. His chin jutted out slightly with irritation before he turned away from her.

“What I mean is,” Knock Out continued, “It’s not like you to be so relaxed when it comes to the Autobots.” He plucked a tool with a sharp hook at one end off a tray before returning to his work on one of Starscream’s wings. “Do they have any idea what they’re doing?”

“No,” Starscream grumbled. “Soundwave hasn’t been able to intercept any new communications between the Autobots. Not even from that Agent Fowler.”

“Who?” Amira asked, looking up from her sketchbook.

“Who what?”

“Who’s Agent Fowler?”

Starscream’s annoyed expression slowly morphed into one of smug gratification. “Oh, you don’t know? And here I thought you were training to operate in espionage.” Amira shot a dirty look his way before looking back at Knock Out.

“Who is Agent Fowler?”

“Some human who has contact with the Autobots. We managed to capture him once, but I wasn’t here for that, and our dear Air Commander failed to get any useful information out of him.”

“I am an excellent interrogator!” Starscream snapped. “The Autobots just came for the little worm before I could break him.” Amira’s frown only deepened.

“Wait. So just how many humans do the Autobots have helping them? Is Fowler one of the three Breakdown was talking about?” Amira tried to think back to everything Breakdown had said regarding the human ‘pets’ the Autobots had.

“Ugh. Too many. Nasty little things, running around and causing more trouble than they’re worth,” Knock Out scoffed as he welded a small cut shut, earning a hiss of warning from Starscream.

“What are they like?” Were they soldiers? Government officials?

“Small. The Wrecker’s is unbearably loud. Like a little turbopup yipping at your pedes. I’m surprised he hasn’t accidentally squished it yet, the bumbling fool,” Starscream interjected.

“They tend to bring out the protective side in the Autobots. It would be funny if it wasn’t so pathetic,” Knock Out added. Amira waited for them to elaborate, but both Decepticons fell silent.

“That’s it?” she asked, surprised they didn’t go on.

“That’s all I need or care to know. All you humans look the same to me. I’m only starting to tell you apart because I can never get away from you,” Knock Out said simply. Amira only rolled her eyes and looked to Starscream.

“What about the Autobots? What are they like?”

“You’ve been reading our history. You know what they are like.”

“I know what they’ve done and what they stand for. That’s different from seeing one in person and having a conversation with one.” She shifted in her seat to face him fully. “You’ve been the Decepticon’s second-in-command for millions of years. You have to have _some_ stories about the Autobots that are here on Earth.”

Starscream’s entire demeanor seemed to brighten at the inquiry, his chest puffing out with pride as he gave her a cocky grin.

“I suppose I could tell you a few stories.”

Amira didn’t miss the nasty glare Knock Out shot her, and found herself smirking in answer as she settled in to listen.

 

* * *

 

Amira was certain that she had learned more about ancient human history in the last week than she had the entire time she’d been in school. The constant work had been absolutely grueling, yet oddly satisfying.

Yes, she was exhausted from all of the research she’d been doing on top of her normal duties and lessons, but a sense of accomplishment washed over her with the knowledge that she’d done all of it to further the Decepticon cause. Her desire to prove herself to the officers and to herself had move to the forefront of her mind, driving her to finish another line of code and to read one more article.

After a week of restless work, Margaret had messaged Amira, asking if she would be interested in introducing documentaries to their squadron.

For a moment, she considered declining. She still held her reservations about socializing with some of the Vehicons, but she remembered what Breakdown had told her.

‘You talk to ‘em. You actually listen to what they have to say, and you’re polite to ‘em.’

She grimaced at the unspoken statement his words held.

‘They very likely may come to trust you, maybe even respect you. Don’t mess it up.’

She knew better than to ignore the advice, even if it was frustrating to admit that it had come from Breakdown. She accepted Margaret’s invitation before she could second-guess her choice.

When the evening shift came around, Amira quickly got ready to head out. She pulled on a pair of jeans, a plain black sleeveless shirt that tied around her neck, and a large, unbuttoned plaid shirt to keep out the draft that seemed to follow her throughout the ship.

She was finishing tying up her shoes when she received a message from Margaret that they would be arriving soon. She hurried with the laces before tying her hair up into a low ponytail, a few jet black flyaways framing her face. She ran her through the stubborn strands in an attempt to force them to cooperate before snatching her phone and the USB drive she’d downloaded a few documentaries onto.

Amira was messaging Margaret to let them know she was leaving the medbay as she made her way along the walkways, heading to the exit.

“Please tell me you’re going to try to escape,” Knock Out grumbled from his stool, glancing up from the datapad that rested precariously in his lap. “I need an excuse to put off this paperwork.”

“And deprive you of my winning personality? Perish the thought,” she retorted, a small smirk pulling at the corners of her lips. She noted his partner’s absence. “Where’s Breakdown?”

“Off getting our rations. I wouldn’t be surprised if he avoided coming back here for a while. He hates doing this paperwork even more than I do.”

Amira only hummed in response before saying, “Well, I’ll be gone for a few hours, so tell him to not wait up for me.” She made to continue towards the exit before adding, “And if you two do decide to bang in here, at least have the decency to clean up after yourselves.”

Amira sprinted the rest of the way to the exit as Knock Out snarled out what she could only assume to be a rather colorful insult in Cybertronian.

 

* * *

 

 

“Okay, let me see if I have this right,” Joey said, holding out his hands in front of him like he was using it to help him picture something. Amira had been unpleasantly surprised to find that he had invited himself along with Margaret to pick her up for their squadron’s vid night. She hadn’t put much effort into hiding her disdain, but it didn’t matter, because Joey didn’t seem to even notice. He’d just gone right into the questions, most of which had to do with aspects of human society and culture he had no doubt learned from Friends.

She huffed as she leaned against Margaret’s fingers, shifting in their open palm. She hadn’t been too keen on being carried, but Margaret had insisted, explaining that the barracks were quite a walk from the medbay and her walkways didn’t extend to them. Amira had begrudgingly agreed, but now she faced another problem - there was no escaping from Joey’s invasive questions until they met up with the others.

“You mean to tell me that when you humans figured out just how cold the poles of your planet are, you sent humans there to do research.”

“Yes.”

“And they all died.”

“Yup.”

“And your solution was to send _more_ humans.”

“Uh huh.”

_“Why?”_

“Because humans are stubborn children who don’t know when to quit,” she answered with a shrug.

For some reason, Joey had gone off on a tangent asking questions about the arctic after hearing it mentioned several times in human media. Amira had told him that she knew very little about it, but he didn’t seem to mind or care, eagerly soaking up whatever rudimentary information she offered him.

It would be charming if he weren’t so annoying, she decided.

“Sounds familiar,” Margaret mused as they turned down another corridor. Amira looked up at them in question, but they just kept walking, not even bothering to look down at her.

The Vehicons continued to make their way through the ship, Joey asking enthusiastic questions while Amira gave cool answers, fiddling with the buttons of her plaid shirt.

They were about to make another turn when a loud noise thundered through the hallway. Both Joey and Margaret froze and Amira sat up straighter, all three Decepticons on high alert. Margaret shared a look with Joey before he nodded and held up one hand, transforming it into a firearm and holding it steady out in front of himself. His entire demeanor went through a drastic change, going from bouncy and eager to still and calculated.

Margaret took a step back, bringing their other hand up to better cover Amira as Joey moved forward, holding his blaster out in preparation to fire. Amira shoved her phone into her back pocket before wrapping both hands around one of Margaret’s fingers, shifting onto her knees to get a better view.

Joey moved to the corner of the hallway, pressing his back against it as he listened for whatever had made the noise. Amira held her breath as they all went still.

The hum of the Nemesis’ engines and the faint buzz of the lights sounded almost deafening in the quiet. Amira slowly leaned forward, straining her ears in hopes of catching any indication of the sound’s location.

They waited still.

Waited.

Waited.

The faint thud of metal on metal could be heard, and after a moment, Amira recognized it as footsteps. They were heavy - heavier than any of the Vehicons’, rivaling Megatron himself. Joey shifted just a fraction on his feet as he peeked around the corner as the footsteps drew closer.

A blast of hot, concentrated energy missed his head by a inch, piercing the wall across from them and leaving a wicked burn mark.

Everything seemed to move in slow motion for Amira as the next few seconds played out.

Joey spun on his foot, stepping out to face the threat head on, firing his blaster down the hallway. “Go!” he shouted, not allowing his gaze or aim to slip as he gave the order.

Without another word, Margaret’s grip on Amira tightened a fraction as they stepped back and transformed around her. She was shoved back against a metal bench and grunted as a seat belt slipped around her front, pulled taught as Margaret’s tires squealed as they shot forward.

“Decepticon to Nemesis! Decepticon to Nemesis! This is M-4667! We have an intruder on board! Sending coordinates now!” Margaret shouted as they pulled a sharp turn. Amira’s fingers curled around her seat, her hands trembling slightly around the warm metal.

“Where are we going?” she asked, trying to keep her voice calm and failing.

“There’s a hanger three kilks from here. Squadrons use them for running drills. We’ll regroup with them and prepare to move. Hold on.” They turned again, swerving along the hallway before picking up speed again. Amira felt her heart slowly climbing up into her throat as Margaret maneuvered their way towards the aforementioned hanger.

A set of large double doors appeared and Margaret came to a screeching halt as they passed through them. Amira grunted as the seat belt tightened further around her as her body snapped forward. Her ribs ached as the bruises were agitated once again. Before she could process what had just happened, the familiar sound of transformation filled her ears before she was once again in Margaret’s hands.

By the time Amira had the sense to take a breath, Margaret was talking to another Vehicon and the thunderous sound of hundred of footsteps greeted her. She blinked slowly as she looked around, trying to keep her trembling under control as she tried to make sense of the situation.

Just as Margaret had said, dozens upon dozens of Vehicons filled the massive expanse that was the hanger. They all ran around, preparing weapons, sending comms to comrades, and awaiting orders as they held their blasters towards the door. At some point, someone had activated the alarm, the blaring noise accompanied by a flashing red light that filled the hanger.

A moment later, Megatron’s voice crackled over the loudspeakers.

“Decepticons! Gather your weapons and eliminate the intruders! Let none escape!”

“You heard him! Move out!” one of the Vehicons shouted. All of the soldiers moved together as one unit towards the door, and Amira gasped as she was suddenly brought closer to the ground. She gently slid out of Margaret’s hands and onto the cold metal floor next to a wall.

She scrambled to stand, looking up at Margaret for some sort of explanation. Instead, Margaret turned on their heel and joined the group as they moved through the exit, activating their blaster before disappearing into the crowd, leaving her alone.

She cursed under her breath as her eyes darted around for any kind of indication of where she could go. She couldn’t stay here in the hanger - not unless she wanted to get crushed. Setting her jaw, she moved towards the exit, keeping close to the wall to avoid the Vehicons that marched past her to join the battle.

As the crowd began to thin out, Amira took her chance. She shot around the corner, through the door and down the hallway. She grit her teeth to stop their incessant chattering, focusing instead on where the Vehicons were heading. She had to get away from the crowds before she could figure out what to do next.

But where was she supposed to go? She’d never been to this part of the ship! She cursed her foolishness in allowing herself to be put in an environment she wasn’t intimately familiar with as she came upon another intersection.

The sound of gunfire and clashing metal could be heard on her right. She tried to see past the Vehicons for any sign of the intruders, but to no avail. She ran forward, pulling out her phone and pulling up her contacts. She took a moment to thank the stars she’d pestered Breakdown into giving her his contact information as she hit the dial button and pressed the phone to her ear.

“Now’s not a good time, grub,” Breakdown growled from his end.

“Where are you?” she shouted, taking quick breaths as she kept running.

“Helping Doc hide all the classified stuff.”

“You need to get down to the hanger by the Vehicons barracks. Now!” She heard Breakdown say something to someone else, probably Knock Out, before she went on. “I was heading down there with Margaret when the first shots fired. Breakdown, whatever this thing is, it’s heavy. Like you-heavy. You were a Wrecker, so come wreck something!”

“You need to hide, grub. You’re gonna get stepped on if you keep running around where the fighting is.” As if the universe was agreeing with him, a loud crash echoed from somewhere behind her. Amira cursed as she picked up the pace, sprinting and panting into the receiver.

“Yeah, no can do. I don’t know where the hell I am. If I can cut these guys off, I might be able to get a visual.”

“Just run into a random room! Don’t go after the fraggers!” She could hear him yelling something at Knock Out before continuing. “I’m serious here. Soundwave has cameras everywhere. He probably already knows who it is. Even then, we already know it’s gotta be Autobots!”

“Remind me to teach you the human saying about people who assume later,” she snapped as she kept going, her eyes flitting along her surroundings for any sort of indication of where to go.

“Fleshie. Take cover. That’s an order!” Knock Out’s tone was filled with fury and Amira rolled her eyes at the realization that Breakdown had put her on speaker.

“I take orders from Soundwave, not you! If you want to stop me so bad, get your sorry asses down here!” she screamed into the phone. As she neared the next intersection, a cacophony of gunfire and shouting grew ever closer. Amira faintly heard Knock Out shout something through the phone, but her attention was focused on the brawl. She fumbled with the phone for a moment before hanging up and creeping closer.

Every alarm was going off in her head as she drew near, screaming at her to heed Knock Out’s order to hide. She ignored them, despite her still trembling hands, and peeked around the corner.

A wave of Vehicons was forced back by another onslaught of fire. Soldiers fell to the ground, some injured, others dead. Amira jumped back as another fell, narrowly missing her. She gaped at the sight of the Vehicon as they struggled to get up before another shot made contact. The soldier shuddered and went limp, the red light of their visor slowly fading to a lifeless black.

Amira felt the nausea rise as she scrambled back to her feet, balling her hands into fists. Her ears were ringing from the sounds of close combat and she moved back towards the wall, trying to keep as much room between her and the corpse as possible. She looked around the corner once again, and felt her stomach join her stomach join her heart in her throat.

A large, forest green mech grabbed a Vehicon by the head and slammed them face first into the wall before firing at another. A short, stocky-looking mech with white plating and green and red stripes joined the larger one, wielding two wicked-looking swords. They cut through two Vehicons like butter with one swipe, sending their pieces crashing to the ground. The mech had a mask covering their face, leaving only bright blue eyes to the open as they took a swipe at another soldier.

The two worked in sync, downing soldier after soldier. As the green one shoved another into the white one’s path, they seperated the soldier’s head from his body. The white mech then picked up the decapitated head and kicked it like a soccer ball down the hallway as he laughed.

The sick bastard was _laughing_.

Any sense of bravery Amira was feeling was quickly diminishing at the the bloodbath before her. She slowly backed away, her body shaking even worse now as her teeth chattered so violently that the sound threatened to drown out any other sound.

Another crash, this one from behind her this time. Amira spun around just in time to watch the familiar form of Bumblebee run around the corner and turn to fire another shot.

Shit.

She’d forgotten about the combat coming from behind her.

_Shit._

Amira scrambled back and gasped as her back hit hot metal. She stepped forward before turning again, finding the fallen Vehicon’s steaming corpse. Bile threatened to fill her mouth as the gravity of her situation slowly began to dawn on her.

No. No, she couldn’t freeze up. Not here. If she froze up, she was dead.

A strange whirring noise echoed through the corridor and Amira looked back at nearing fight. Bumblebee was staring right at her, his bright blue eyes wide with an emotion that she couldn’t decipher. He let out another buzz and moved to walk towards her, holding up his other hand.

She had to move.

NOW.

Spinning on her heel, Amira leapt over the fallen Vehicon to make a break for it, aiming for the hallway in front of her. She’d have to cross the line of fire from the other fight, but that was a risk she was going to have to take. She hit the ground running, literally.

The moment she slid off the soldier’s body, she bolted. She drew quick breaths through clenched teeth, locking her focus on the hallway before her. She could feel the heat of hot plasma filling the space and smell the spilt energon and burnt metal. The crunch of stray debris could be felt through the tough rubber of her shoes.

Bumblebee let out another shrill buzz as she ran, but she paid it no mind. She passed through the war zone and booked it down the hallway. Now he’d have to risk friendly fire if he wanted to get her. She felt her lips pull back in a grin at the thought as she turned left, her shoes squealing with the force behind the quick change in direction.

Her lungs were burning and her pulse was hammering, working overtime to try and keep up with her. She could feel her heartbeat in her ears and she ran, looking for any kind of door.

Up ahead, she caught sight of a door that was still open. Her spirits lifted as she made a beeline for it. She would get inside, hide, and call Breakdown again to tell him what she’d seen.

She was only a few feet away now. She prepared to turn again.

Suddenly, she was up in the air.

A crushing pressure wrapped around her middle as she was brought to a screeching halt in midair. She panted hard as she fought against the restraints.

“Don’t worry. I’ve got you,” a stern, feminine voice assured her. Amira paused, taking a moment to recognize that she was in fact in someone’s hand. She looked up, expecting to see the familiar chrome plating and bright red light of a Vehicon’s visor.

Instead, she was met with bright blue eyes and a silver face, accented by blue and pink. It only took her a moment to place the bot. Arcee. The Autobot brought her free hand up to the side of her head.

“Ratchet, I got her. Heading back to the others now. Get the groundbridge ready.” She looked back down at Amira and offered a small smirk. “Let’s get you out of here.”

That was enough to shock Amira back into action. She twisted and squirmed, kicking her legs and trying in vain to free her arms.

“Put me down! Let go!” Arcee’s other hand came up to wrap around her legs, pinning them together.

“Don’t struggle! I could drop you,” the Autobot said as she sprinted back towards the fight. Back to the slaughter.

No no no _no no no no no!_

Amira continued to fight, her limbs burning from overexertion. A small voice in her head told her that there was no point in fighting Arcee’s grip, but Amira refused to listen to it. She couldn’t surrender. She wouldn’t surrender! Not to an Autobot. Not to her.

She screamed as she kept struggling, not paying as Arcee drew closer to the fighting. Bumblebee ran over to them, meeting Arcee in the hallway. He whirred again, watching Amira struggle as if she was an unruly pet.

“I can’t get her to calm down,” Arcee said as she held Amira up to him. “You try.” Bumblebee held up his hands and buzzed again.

The minute Arcee’s grip loosened, Amira jumped. She didn’t think about how far from the ground she was. The only thing that she could think in that moment was ‘GET AWAY!’

The ground was so close, but just as she was about to land, she was snatched by the back of her shirt. She gaped like a fish out of water as she was lifted back up, meeting Bumblebee’s glowing eyes. She kicked and snarled as he brought up his other hand.

“Don’t touch me, you fucking Furby!” she screamed. She swiped at his fingers every time he tried to touch her, ignoring the soft buzzing noises he was making. She was not about to let the enemy try to soothe her.

“Wheeljack, Bulk, bring it in!” Arcee said over her comm. “Ratchet’s opening the groundbridge!”

Amira could feel the blood draining from her face. She had to get away. If they opened up a groundbridge and brought her through it, there was no coming back. She kicked and screamed and clawed like a wild animal, her blood practically boiling in her veins.

Behind Bumblebee, Amira caught sight of the white and green Autobots running around the corner to join their comrades. The memory of the white one’s laughter threatened to send Amira into a panic and her struggle renewed.

“The frag are you doin’?” the white one asked. Bumblebee buzzed rather hotly, glaring at him.

“I tried to calm her down but she won’t listen to me. Bee’s been trying to help,” Arcee supplied as her checked behind her for incoming soldiers.

“Here, give her to me,” the green one said as he transformed his blaster back into his hand and held them out to accept her. Bumblebee seemed all too eager to hand her off, practically dropping her into his hands. She was lifted even higher until she was eye level with the Autobot’s chin. “Hey, kid. You don’t have to fight us. We’re here to save you. We aren’t gonna hurt you.”

The fucker had the nerve to speak to her like she was a goddamn flighty deer. Amira snarled as she moved to stand up in his hand when a flash of light filled the hallway. She moved to cover her eyes for a moment before her eyes managed to adjust to the brightness.

Amira looked up to see what had happened, only for horror to fill her as she witnessed the swirling, green form of a groundbridge. The green Autobot’s fingers wrapped around her as they all began to file through the portal. Amira pushed against the grip tightening around her, desperate to get away.

“Hey!” Relief washed over her as the Autobot holding her turned was watch at Breakdown came barreling down the hallway.

He had come.

He was going to get her back.

The Autobot holding her muttered a curse under his breath as he turned and made a break for the groundbridge.

“Oh no you don’t!” The thundering crash of Breakdown’s footsteps filled the hall before both the Autobot and Amira were knocked forward.

Amira took a moment to mentally chide Breakdown for _tackling the other while he was still holding her,_ but then her focus was on the ground. She was far too high. There was no way she was walking out of this unscathed.

Just as she was started to close her eyes, a dark grey hand reached out and caught her before quickly wrapping around her. She wheezed as the wind was knocked out of her. Her lungs burned and her head spun as she fought to take a breath. She was brought up to meet the cold blue eyes of the white mech.

“Gotcha,” he said with a smug tone before heading towards the portal. The sound of crashing metal as Breakdown and the green Autobot fought was absolutely deafening, but Amira didn’t care.

She fought to force air into her lungs. It took a moment, but she finally managed to swallow it down, gulping three mouthfuls before turning her head to face the fight.

Breakdown threw the green Autobot against the wall and transformed his hand into a sledgehammer, glaring at the Autobot with those glowing ember eyes.

The light of the groundbridge was growing ever closer. Amira knew she couldn’t go through that portal.

She took in a deep breath, filling her lungs, before she shrieked.

“BREAKDOWN!”

Breakdown faltered, his expression morphing into one of confusion as he turned his head to look at her. Just as quickly, his expression shifted into shock. She watched as his eyes widened and the fire left them, replaced with something else. He opened his mouth to say something, but before he could, the buzz of the groundbridge was surrounding her, and the bright light forced her to shut her eyes.

As she was pulled through the portal, she cried out one last time.

“BREAKDOWN!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thirty-one pages. 12,243 words.
> 
> This chapter FOUGHT me, you guys. Nevertheless, I hope you all enjoy!
> 
> I made a playlist for Amira that I listen to whenever I'm writing her. Here it is! - https://soundcloud.com/geminiwishes/sets/amira  
> Enjoy! ^-^


	10. When You Corner A Cat...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Strap in, my dudes~
> 
> -
> 
> Like what you see? Come check out my Tumblr and shoot me a message! I love hearing from you guys!
> 
> https://www.google.com/url?sa=t&source=web&rct=j&url=http://geminiwishes.tumblr.com/&ved=2ahUKEwjI2ePR0rniAhVMeawKHXCYB18QFjAAegQICBAC&usg=AOvVaw24zaMp81HoMPcDZIslJis9

Arcee remembered just how terrified Jack had been when she’d first met him. She knew it had been for a number of reasons - most importantly the cons that had been chasing them down the freeway at over 100 mph. But even after they had managed to lose them and Jack and Raf had made it out safely, Jack hadn’t been very happy to see her again when she’d showed up at his school the next day.

She had wondered why Rafael and Miko hadn’t had a similar reaction. When she’d asked about it, she had learned about something that humans called ‘fight-or-flight response’. It was an instinct that was ingrained into every human like a line of code, a response to dangerous situations that forced the human to either flee or stand their ground. Rafael had even explained that there were different kinds of ‘fighters’ and ‘flighters’ as well.

The term ‘fear-biter’ came to mind as Arcee watched the human girl struggle in Bumblebee’s servos. She supposed that she should have expected this kind of reaction, given what this poor girl had no doubt suffered at the hands of Megatron. Even if the human looked healthy enough at first glance, Arcee knew better than to assume that meant she was unscathed.

When only Bumblebee followed her through the groudbridge, Arcee had been rightly concerned. She had been so certain they had handled the drones in that sector of the ship, so what could have possibly been keeping Wheeljack and Bulkhead?

She had taken a step forward, preparing to go back through to help when Wheeljack suddenly came running through, the screaming girl held tightly in his servos.

“Where’s Bulk?” she demanded as the Wrecker cleared the groundbridge.

“Breakdown decided to come say hi,” Wheeljack grumbled as he held out the squirming human to her. “Take her. I’m going back.”

“Put me down!” the girl screeched, clawing at his digits in a useless attempt to free herself. Arcee grimaced at the prospect of having to take the girl back.

[Incoming!] Bee exclaimed.

Bumblebee’s warning beep drew both bots’ attention back to the swirling portal, where they could see Bulkhead’s familiar form barreling through, running as fast as he could. Bulkhead practically leapt out of the groundbridge, landing inside the Autobot base with a resonating thud that shook the metal platforms.

Jack and Miko tightened their grip on the railing to keep from falling, their eyes glued to the scene before them.

Bulkhead’s dramatic entrance served as a sufficient distraction, as it turned out. Wheeljack’s grip relaxed just enough for the girl to finally wrench herself from his servos with a grunt. Before they could stop her, she leapt out of his reach, plunging towards the cold cement below.

Arcee felt her spark sputter for a second as she reached out a servo in a vain attempt to catch the girl. She watched in horror as the girl made contact, landing on one foot, resulting in a tiny cracking sound before she gasped with pain.

Wheeljack muttered a soft “Ah, scrap” as the human rolled over onto her side and wrapped her hands around her left ankle. Arcee didn’t need to see the injury to know that it was most definitely broken. The girl moaned as she sat up and assessed the injury.

“Preparing to deactivate groundbridge,” Ratchet called out, his focus entirely on the computer before him as he reached for the killswitch. That seemed to get the girl’s attention.

Her head shot up and she swung her head around, eyes wide as she stared at the groundbridge. She rolled onto her knees and made to stand up. Arcee held out a servo to stop her, but it was unnecessary. As soon as the human tried to take a step on her injured foot, she fell to the ground again with a cry of pain. She looked up just in time to see the brilliant light of the groundbridge disappear as the portal shrunk into nothing.

For a moment, the only sounds were the hum of the engines as the groundbridge equipment died down, and the loud whirr of the bots’ fan as their frames tried to cool down after the heat of battle.

Then the base fell into chaos.

The girl was snarling up a storm as she rolled onto her backside and scrambled backwards, away from Arcee and Wheeljack, her eyes shrinking into slits as she glowered at them. Bulkhead leaned back against the wall, an arm wrapped around his chassis as he looked up at the ceiling. Wheeljack was there a moment later, trying to assess the damage his comrade had taken. Bumblebee began a series of beeps and buzzes as he advanced on the girl, his hand reaching out in a gesture of concern.

“Don’t you dare touch me!” the girl screamed again, continuing to scoot further and further away from the others.

“Hey, it’s okay,” Arcee tried again, holding her servos up in a sign of surrender. “We’re not going to hurt you.” The girl only snorted in answer.

“You honestly think I’m gonna buy that? You just slaughtered at least three squadrons worth of Vehicons!” she hissed. “Fucking Autobots!”

_ That _ made Arcee pause.

Perhaps there was something more to what Ratchet had suggested before about ‘grooming’. Everyone’s EM fields surged with a sense of uneasiness that bled into one another at their close proximity.

Arcee took a moment to get a better look at the girl. She had a tangled mess of long, black hair pulled back into a ponytail, but it hardly made any difference. She had fistfuls of hair falling out of the hair tie and obscuring her vision. Her skin was darker than all three of the kids, but definitely lighter than Agent Fowler’s. Arcee glimpsed a set of dark brown eyes as they bounced from bot to bot.

She wore a pair of worn denim jeans and a thin, black-and-white plaid, long-sleeved shirt, along with a pair of simple black sneakers. The clothes definitely looked worn in, but not nearly as filthy as Arcee had been expecting them to be. Her analysis was abruptly cut off by Wheeljack.

“Hey, we just saved your hide,” Wheeljack snapped as he turned away from Bulkhead and retracted his facemask. “A little gratitude would be nice.”

“Gratitude?” The human blanched at him, her tone full of fury. “You expect me to  _ thank  _ you?”

“Are you glitched?” he snapped.

“Wheeljack,” came the deep baritone of their leader. Arcee took a step back and turned to watch as Optimus stepped forward, placing a servo on Wheeljack’s shoulder in a silent command for calm. Wheeljack looked like he wanted to say more as he stared up the Prime, but after a tense moment and a pulse of calm energy from Optimus’ field, he relented, stepping aside and looking away from the human.

Optimus moved to stand in front of the girl, watching her with soft yet calculating optics. Arcee noticed that the human was trembling as she stared up at Optimus, her chest heaving as her hands clenched into tiny fists.

“I must apologize for the unpleasant methods utilized to retrieve you. Locating the Nemesis proved quite difficult for our team,” Optimus explained. The human girl only glared harder at him. “My name is Optimus Prime, and I am the leader of the Cybertronian faction known as the Autobots.”

“I know who you are.” Arcee felt her plating press together at the venom in the human’s voice. Prisoner or not, this girl had a serious attitude problem.

“Whoa,” Miko murmured. Arcee could see their human friend out of the corner of her optic. She was heading towards the stairs and Jack was hesitantly following after her. Arcee looked back to see that the human was now watching them, no doubt just now noticing them for the first time. The human’s frown deepened as she stared at Miko and Jack, watching as they descended down the metal stairs to join the others on the main floor.

“No way! You’re alive!” Miko exclaimed, her eyes practically glowing with curiosity as she grinned. The human girl was silent as she ran her eyes over Miko and then Jack. “I didn’t think Jack was right, but here you are!”

“Who the hell are you supposed to be?” the girl spat, pressing her lips together into a thin line.

“Miko-” Jack warned his friend, his hand reaching out to keep her from getting too close.

“The name’s Miko.” She puffed up her chest proudly. “Honorary Wrecker and metalhead!”

“You’re children,” the girl said quietly. She looked back up at Optimus. “They’re children.” Her tone was accusatory as she struggled to her feet. Ratchet stepped closer to the others, frowning at the girl’s insistence to stand when she was clearly injured.

“Hey, I’m not a child! I’m fifteen!” Miko argued, crossing her arms. “It’s not like you’re one to talk anyways.” That earned another scoff from the girl as she wobbled to her feet, putting almost all of her weight on her good foot.

“I’m not a fucking kid,” she retorted. Arcee frowned at the human’s vulgar language. “Why the hell are you here?”

“Uh, hello? I just said I’m a Wrecker.”

“No you’re not.”

Miko’s cocky smile lessened at the finality in the girl’s tone. She pouted and placed her hands on her hips as she glared at the stranger.

“Yeah, I am. What’s your deal?”

“What’s my- What’s my  _ deal? _ ” The girl scowled as she straightened to her full height, despite her limp.

“Miko-” Jack said again, placing a hand on Miko’s elbow.

“You want to know what my deal is?” she spat. “My deal is that I just watched a handful of Autobots tear apart three highly-trained Vehicon squadrons, and one of them was  _ laughing  _ as he did it.” She took a limping step forward. “My deal is that I was trying to escape a bloodbath and got snatched up and handed around like a goddamn gerbil! My deal is that I’m being questioned by a child who’s convinced herself that she has any business in a galactic civil war!”

“I’m not a kid!” Miko shot back. Jack wrapped his hand more firmly around her elbow and gently pulled her back.

“Miko, stop!”

“Miko?” The girl paused, some of the ire in her glare melting away. She seemed to be searching for something in Miko’s fiery glare before she snorted again. “Wait…  _ you’re _ Miko?”

Miko ripped her arm out of Jack’s grip before crossing them as she glared at the girl. “Yeah. What of it?”

The girl huffed out a breath, staring at Miko as she seemed to piece together something in her mind. She wobbled in her leg for a moment as she regained her center of balance, forcing her to break eye contact. But as she looked back up at Optimus, Arcee didn’t miss the faint smirk on the girl’s face.

“I didn’t realize you were running a daycare center.” Her voice was cool and cocky. Arcee immediately recognized it for what it was - a defense mechanism - but that didn’t stop her from scowling at the girl’s hostility.

“I understand you are upset,” Optimus began, “but there is no need for insults.” Arcee could sense Optimus’ EM field trying to pulse out a calming undertone, but the gesture was lost on the human.

“Oh, I beg to differ,” she snapped as she leaned forward, limping slightly. She let out a choked sound that could have been a laugh or a cry of pain as she tried to hold herself together. “Is this really the best you have for allies? Two kids?” She shot a withering sneer Miko’s way. “If this is all you have, I don’t see why Megatron is so worried.”

“Oh, you wanna go?!” Miko shouted. She made to storm up to the girl, but Arcee was faster. She knelt and placed a hand in front of her human friend, meeting her glare head-on.

“Don’t,” she said firmly. Miko’s expression soured, but she didn’t try to advance any further. She instead chose to glare daggers into the girl as she continued to fight to keep her balance.

“You better watch it! Just ‘cause I’m not a giant robot doesn’t mean I won’t throw down!” Miko exclaimed, holding up her fists as if she was expecting the girl to charge her.

The girl watched Miko with a sort of amused expression before she let out a warped sort of noise that Arcee interpreted as a chuckle. Arcee’s systems went on high alert at the uneasy sound.

“Starscream was right,” the girl hummed with a casualness that sounded almost forced. “You really are like a little dog, yapping for attention.” Her lips curled into a smirk that bordered on a sneer. “It’d be pathetic if it weren’t so funny.”

Wheeljack grumbled as he stood up straight, glaring at the girl as protective anger flooded his EM field. Arcee could sense the same from Bulkhead, but her comrade was making a much more convincing effort of keep his emotions at bay.

“Hey, back off,” Jack snapped. Arcee knew he wouldn’t try to start a fight, but she kept herself prepared to step in just in case. “They just risked their lives to save you. I get that you’re freaked out, but insulting people isn’t going to help.”

“Jack is correct,” Optimus interjected, glancing down at Arcee’s partner in a show of thanks before continuing. “This has no doubt been a difficult time for you and I apologize that it took this long to free you. We will do all that we can to heal your injury and return you to your home as soon as we are able.”

Optimus reached out a servo towards the human in an offer to carry her, but the girl didn’t take it. She lowered herself back onto her backside and scooted away, acting as if Optimus had been coming at her with a hot poker.

“Don’t. Touch. Me,” she hissed.

Optimus’s frown deepened but he didn’t try to push the issue, retracting his servo and standing up to his full height once again. Concern and wariness pulsed from their leader’s EM field, and with it carried a silent command: ‘Be on your guard.’

Arcee decided to try again, getting on one knee as she kept herself between the girl and Miko. “None of us are going to touch you,” she stated, hoping that her tone conveyed reassurance, “but we still need to help you. Can you tell us your name?”

“Not on your life,” the girl bit out.

Arcee was starting to lose her patience with this human. She looked up at Optimus for some sort of indication of what to do, but Optimus only pressed his lips together in a thin line as he continued to watch the girl. Arcee noticed that he had tucked in his EM field and realized just how loose she’d allowed hers to become. She quickly amended that as she tucked it in before turning back to the girl.

“Fine. What about your family? Is there anyone we can call for you?”

“I don’t have to tell you shit!”

Arcee could feel her plating flare up with irritation. She scowled as she felt a biting retort form on her glossa. She was prepared to deliver it, but as she opened her intake to speak, she felt a small, warm touch on her arm guard. She glanced down to see Jack, his hand placed gently against her as he looked up at her imploringly.

She knew how torn up he’d been when they first heard about the Decepticons taking the girl. She could tell that it had bothered him far more than he’d been willing to share at the time. When they’d formulated a plan of rescue, she had to watch as those feelings filled him once again. She knew precisely what that look was conveying. It was a plea. She knew it was in part for her to settle down, but the other meaning made her wary.

He was asking for permission. She didn’t need to wonder what for. Her human partner, Primus bless him, was sometimes too kind for his own good.

Despite her better judgement, Arcee moved her hand out of the way and allowed Jack to get closer to the girl. Miko made to get closer as well, but Arcee was quick to stop her as she placed her hand in her friend’s path, earning a whine of irritation. Arcee simply shot Miko a look that let her know that she would not budge about this. Miko huffed as she crossed her arms and - thankfully - stayed where she was.

Arcee silently thanked Primus for that small mercy before she quickly turned her optics back to her partner.

Jack held up his hands in a show of surrender as he slowly took step after step. The girl’s glare was white hot as he approached, but she didn’t try to increase the distance between them.

“Look, I’ve been where you are,” Jack began, his voice calm and even. “I mean, the first time I met a Cybertronian, I ended up in the middle of a car chase that almost got me killed. Definitely not something I wanted to repeat.” He moved ever closer as he talked. “It’s a lot to take in, but I can promise you that they aren’t going to hurt you.”

He stopped once he was only a few feet away. The girl was still glaring at him, but a hint if the ire in it had dissipated. Jack took that as a sign to continue speaking.

“We’ve all been doing everything we can to get you back safely. I know it’s hard, but you gotta trust us. We just wanna help.” He took another testing step forward before holding out his hand. “Will you let us?”

Arcee was sure that the girl would refuse. She hadn’t lowered her defenses at all since they initially found her on the Nemesis. She was ready to pull Jack away the second she believed he was in danger.

But then the girl’s shoulders sagged, and her glower slowly melted away. She was still frowning, her expression still one of wary hesitance. But when Jack leaned in closer, she didn’t smack his hand away. She simply stared at him for a minute, her eyes searching, before she slowly placed her hand in his.

A pulse of relief emitted from someone’s field, but Arcee didn’t care to figure out whose. She simply watched as Jack gently helped the girl to her feet, guiding her arm around his shoulder to help keep the weight off her ankle.

“Come on,” Ratchet said as he stepped back and gestured to the couch. “Bring her up here so I can have a look at her. We’ll need to see just how bad that break is.”

It was as if a shadow had been lifted. Everyone who’d been still before was suddenly moving again, sitting down on makeshift benches and working to assess through their own injuries. Miko drew a bit closer, but still kept her distance.

Jack was speaking quietly to the girl, that too-easy smile reappearing on his face as he helped her slowly limp towards the metal stairsteps.

[I’m gonna go get Raf] Bee buzzed as he passed Arcee. She watched as he transformed without another word and sped through the tunnel, no doubt eager to leave the tension-filled room. 

When Arcee glanced down at Jack and the girl, she noticed how the girl’s eyes lingered on the exit tunnel. That uneasy feeling started to return.

“I will contact Agent Fowler about our mission’s success,” Optimus said as he made his way to the main console.

“Tell him to bring a medical kit,” Ratchet called out, not looking away from his tools.

“Don’t worry. You’re in good hands with Ratchet,” Jack assured the girl as they neared the stairs. “I mean, anyone’s gotta be better than Knock Out, right? The guy’s a psycho.”

It happened in an instant.

One minute, Jack was easing the girl on the first step.

The next, she had pivoted on her good foot, clenched her hand into a tight fist, and slammed it into Jack’s face.

Jack cried out, letting go of his assailant as he reached up to cradle his face and back away. The girl fell against the metal stair with a thud, hissing as she made contact.

“Whoa!”

“Hey!”

“Jack!”

Arcee was there in an instant, placing herself in between Jack and the girl as she knelt before him. Her servos hovered over him, trembling slightly with uncertainty. She did her best to drown out the sudden hostility and alertness everyone else was emitting in their fields as she focused on her charge.

“Let me see,” she commanded, touching his arm with one of her digits. Jack shuddered for a moment before he brought his hands away from his face and looked up at her. Blood was running from his nose, down his lips, and dripping onto his shirt. His nose was red and she could tell that it was angled differently than it had been before.

Rage filled her as she whirled around to glare at the girl.

“Oh, you wanna punch people?!” Miko screamed as she closed in on her, her cheeks already flushed with anger.

The girl’s lips pulled back in a snarl as she hissed out, “Bring it, bitch.”

Miko had her fist raised in the air, and Arcee briefly wondered if she should try to stop her. But before Miko could reach her, however, a familiar grey hand cut her off.

“Absolutely not!” Ratchet snapped. The girl scrambled back, clumsily trying to climb the stairs, but Ratchet simply reached out and wrapped his digits around her before lifting her off the ground.

“Put me down!” she screamed as she pounded her fists, her good leg kicking at him while her bad one hung uselessly in the air.

“Optimus,” Ratchet said as he turned to face his friend, ignoring the girl’s protests. Optimus’s optics flickered between Ratchet and the human for a moment before closing as he frowned. He only nodded to Ratchet before the medic was off, heading down the hallway with the screaming girl. Optimus merely sighed before meeting Arcee’s optics.

“See to it that Jack is properly tended to. I will alert Agent Fowler about this latest development.” Arcee didn’t need to be told twice. She looked back to her partner and tried to keep the anger out of her tone.

“What can I do?” she asked.

“Ngh. Tissues,” Jack mumbled, his voice coming out in short breaths as he had to breathe through his mouth. “Gotta stop the bleeding.”

“I got ‘em,” Miko grumbled as she descended the stairs with a small box in her hand. She must have gotten them while she wasn’t looking, Arcee thought as Miko pulled a few out and handed them to Jack.

“Thanks,” Jack said as he accepted the tissues and began to tentatively clean the blood. His face twisted with pain as he brought the tissues to his nose.

“Is it broken?” Miko asked, her bottom lip pursed with concern and unresolved anger.

“I think so,” he admitted as he oh so gently dabbed at the mess. “Definitely feels like it…”

“What happened?” Miko handed him a few more tissues and Jack wordlessly accepted them.

“I don’t know,” Jack huffed, “Everything seemed fine. I was just trying to lighten the mood with a joke and she just decided to punch me.”

“What’d you say?”

“I just said she shouldn’t be worried about Ratchet and he’s loads better than Knock Out. I don’t see why she’d want to hit me for that!” He winced again as he gathered the tissues around his nose. “Ugh, I’m gonna need my mom to help me reset this. And I need to shower and change.”

“Let’s get the bleeding under control for now,” Arcee interjected. “I’ll give you a lift home once you get it to stop.” Jack mumbled out a thanks before he began to climb the stairs, still holding the tissues to his nose as Miko followed behind with the tissue box.

Arcee watched the teens for a moment before opening her comm to Bumblebee.

“Hey, Bee. Change of plans. Raf can’t be at the base today. Our guest decided to take a swing at Jack.”

[Is he okay?]

“He’s bleeding and he’s pretty sure his nose is broken, but otherwise alright. Just take Raf home for today. And hurry. I get the feeling Optimus is going to want to speak to all of us about this ASAP.”

[Copy that.]

“Well that was complete waste,” Wheeljack spat as he paced across the floor, running his digits over a myriad of new dents and scratches he’d received from the assault. Arcee didn’t try to argue as she made her way to the kids, intent on keeping a watchful eye over her charge.

 

* * *

Amira kept kicking and scratching the Autobot who had picked her up. The rush of adrenaline in her was starting to dissipate, but she did her best to ignore that fact as she was carried down the hallway. She’d given up on shouting at him already after he’d made it clear he wouldn’t even look at her. 

They turned twice already and were moving further and further into the base. Amira continued to struggle, but she’d also been memorizing the route the Autobot was taking.

They stopped once they’d reached what looked to be a small brig. Thick metal bars gave way to a small, dark cell. The Autobot pulled the door open with a finger before bringing her down towards the cell.

“Do not jump,” the mech commanded, his grip tightening a fraction as she began squirming again. “You will aggravate your injury and I can’t allow that.”

“Allow it!” Amira barked out a laugh, amused at the ridiculousness of the situation. She was being detained, and the enemy medic was trying to attend to her injuries. Absolutely ridiculous. 

The mech only grumbled again before bringing his hand up next to the cell door and opening his palm. Amira slid out of his hand and into the cell, having no room to try and squeeze out to escape. She hobbled forward for just a step before she fell to her knees. Pain shot through her foot and up her leg, forcing her to grit her teeth to keep back a pained groan. She gently rolled over to sit up and met the medic’s ice blue eyes.

“I’m guessing this is the part where you threaten me to not try anything funny or I die?” She held back her exhaustion and replaced it with forced disinterest.

“No, it’s not.” The medic’s tone held its own blase as he typed something into a keypad on his arm guard. “Primus knows Arcee is probably planning to come down here to threaten you herself. But for now, you’re staying here. I suggest you try to control yourself in the near future.” The panel containing his keyboard snapped shut and he gave her one last analyzing look before turning and leaving the way he’d come.

Amira grimaced as soon as she was alone. She knew her ankle was broken - her foot possibly too. The pain has shifted from the constant burning into a throb that intensified with every beat of her heart. It took an insurmountable amount of strength for her to not cry. She could feel the burn of tears threatening to fill her eyes, but she refused to allow it.

She scooted back until her back hit cool metal. Shifting herself to sit up further, Amira peered down at her leg. The cell had no light, so she had to rely on the light pouring in from the hallway. She leaned forward to roll back the leg of her pants to get a better look. Electricity shot up her spine and she whimpered, her hands trembling as she forced herself to slowly roll up her jeans.

Her lower shin and ankle were a bright pink, and a few of the major veins were bulging prominently under her skin. She knew the swelling would only continue, and silently cursed as she glanced at her tennis shoe. It would have to come off if she wanted to continue the blood circulation in her foot. With still shaking hands, Amira reached for the laces and began to unravel them.

As the laces loosened, burning pain encompassed her foot, threatening to knock the air out of her lungs. She let loose a muttered curse as she pulled at the tongue of the shoe to allow her foot to easily slid out. She tossed the shoe away and took a moment to catch her breath, working through each throb of pain.

She wiggled her toes and checked for any other injuries, but found none. She gave a sigh of relief before looking around the cell, hoping that there might be something here she could use to elevate her ankle or perhaps make a splint of some kind.

The entire cell was made up of cold steel. A bench protruded from the far wall and a shiny plastic pad was set on top - not doubt covered in dust from lack of use. There was a metal stool of sorts that was tucked away in the opposite corner, and it took a moment for Amira to realize that it was a toilet. She looked for anything that wasn’t bolted down, but came up short.

Great. Just perfect.

Amira took a moment to take a breath. She had to focus. She had to come up with a plan and she needed a clear head to do that.

Okay, review time: she’d been captured by the Autobots. They’d placed her in a cell because they didn’t know what to do with her. There was nothing in the cell itself she could use to escape, so what about on her person? Hope filled Amira as she remembered - her phone. She’d been talking to Breakdown and Knock Out on it just before everything went wrong. Maybe she could use it to send a message, or at the very least provide a little extra light.

She padded around for the device, but felt her heart plummet when she couldn’t feel it in either back pocket. She felt around her shirt in a vain attempt to find it, but to no avail. She must have lost in on the ship, since she certainly didn’t remember losing it out in the main room of the Autobot base.

She glanced around the cell for a moment. She knew she needed to get a better handle on her surroundings, and that started with knowing when someone was coming to visit her. Gritting her teeth with determination, Amira slowly began to pull herself along the floor, scooting over to the far corner where the cell wall and the bars met.

She let out a breath as she arranged herself against the wall so that she could see out of the sell simply by glancing to the right. She took a moment to take in the structure of what she could see of the base. Crude rock made up some of the taller parts of the walls, as if they’d started to line the walls with metal and given up halfway. Exposed vents and pipes hissed and rumbled, joining in with the faint buzz of electricity. There were a few overhead lights, but they didn’t do too much for the overall atmosphere. The light coming from down the the hall was brighter, giving a false sense of warmth.

Perhaps that had aided the Autobots into tricking those teenagers into thinking they were safe with them. She was still shocked that the aforementioned ‘Autobot pets’ were children. Stars above, what were the Autobots thinking? What was Optimus Prime thinking? After reading about him in the history texts she’d been given and listening to Starscream’s stories, she’d believed the leader of the Autobots to be a cool, calculating mech with a penchant for self-sacrificing. What the hell was he thinking letting human children run around his base?

Did their parents know? Surely not. Or maybe they didn’t have parents.

She scrapped that last idea immediately. This base was obviously human-made, definitely military. She highly doubted that the Autobots could just commandeer an unused or - most likely - abandoned base. Meaning they were allied with a human military. And there was no way in hell any military division would allow a group of alien soldiers to take care of human children.

So much for Starscream’s reassurances that the Autobots had no allies.

Amira grimaced at the situation - at those kids’ naivety, at the Autobots’ calculation, and especially at her own carelessness.

She should have pushed harder to get to the groundbridge. As soon as she’d hit the floor, she should have bolted for it, broken ankle or not. But even then, that didn’t guartunee that she would have made it. Not that it mattered now.

The way they’d tried to coddle her made Amira’s blood boil. She wasn’t so easily swayed by soft spoken words. Everything they said had been a lie anyways.

Not going to hurt her? Please. Just how stupid did they think she was? The memory of the white one’s laughter sent a shudder up her spine and threatened to turn her stomach. She forced down the rising bile as she began to pick at her nails. Something else. Focus on something else.

That boy - Jack, they called him - was far too trusting. Stupidly so. But his kindness had given Amira the out she needed to form a possible plan of escape. She could pretend to be a traumatized victim - which was only half true - and gain their trust long enough to figure out where she was and how she could leave.

Maybe even get some intelligence for the Decepticons while she was at it. She smirked at the idea of coming back to the Nemesis with critical Autobot information. Maybe even the location of this base. She could just imagine the look on Starscream’s smug face.

And then she had to go and punch Jack in the face.

She couldn’t understand why she’d done it. Sure, she’d been vividly imagining what it would be like to punch each and every one of them, both human and Autobot, but she hadn’t planned to actually act on those particular impulse. It had felt like a reflex almost. Like she couldn’t have stopped herself even if she tried.

But  _ why _ had she done it? She remembered being annoyed by his incessant need to fill the silence with awkward small talk. It had taken a lot of self-control to not snap at him to shut up. She dug further in as she went on. He’d said something about Ratchet’s medical expertise and then…

Knock Out. He’d called Knock Out a psycho.

Was that what set her off?

No, no, it couldn’t have been. There was no way Amira would let herself get that emotionally compromised. Not when she had more critical things to worry about, like her survival.

But there was nothing else. No other words were exchanged before she’d swung at him. There really was no other explanation. Amira grumbled as she paused her picking and placed her head in her hands.

She could never let Knock Out know. He’d hold it over her forever, the smug bastard. She could practically hear him now - ‘Why, I didn’t know you cared so much, fleshie~’ Ugh. He hadn’t even said it and she wanted to punch  _ him _ in the face.

…

She wondered if Breakdown had survived the fight with the green one. She assumed he was Bulkhead, given the body language she’d seen between the two in the moments before she’d been brought through the groundbridge. There was more than animosity between factions there. There was a deep-rooted hate that had spawned a strange rivalry of sorts. Maybe because they were both Wreckers once?

Amira forcibly snorted as she remembered how Miko had insisted that she was a Wrecker herself. She highly doubted that. Amira wouldn’t have been surprised if Bulkhead had told Miko she was one to make her feel better, but just saying that Miko was a Wrecker didn’t actually make her one. No more than saying Amira was the Queen of England.

Breakdown had told her over a cube of energon once just how extensive the process was to actually join the Wreckers. There was vigorous basic training over almost a hundred Earth years, and that was just to qualify to attempt the entrance exam. Then there was the branding ceremony and the oaths.

Despite the Wreckers’ reputation for smashing things first and asking questions later, the elite team only wanted the best of the best. Yes, they had that reckless reputation, but they  _ earned _ the right to have that reputation.

They didn’t play at it for laughs. It wasn’t just some cool club you joined on a whim and left the minute it became inconvenient for you. It was a decision that changed your life. It was a decision that could end in you getting killed.

It was war.

And this… this child was treating it like it was just a common street gang. Amira’s nails scraped against her face as her hands curled into fists. She glared down at her lap as she clenched her jaw.

She wanted to keep that tension in her until someone else came, but she could feel her energy fading away. She’d been expecting this, but it didn’t make it any more pleasant. She was beginning to experience and adrenaline crash. Her body was starting to slow down to the point of lethargy as her brain sensed that she was no longer in any immediate danger. Her limbs felt like they were filled with sand and her eyelids were beginning to feel especially heavy.

She leaned her head back against the cool metal wall and crossed her arms, letting out a long sigh before finally allowing her eyes to close.

She could just rest her eyes for a second. Just… Just a second.

* * *

 

 

‘I am too fragging old for this’ Ratchet thinks to himself for the umpteenth time as he pinches the space between his optics with his forefinger and thumb. 

Wheeljack had tried to leave twice now, only to be expertly blocked by Bulkhead, despite Ratchet’s warnings for the mech to lie down. Arcee had already taken Miko and Jack home, much to Miko’s dismay. Honestly, Ratchet had been expecting the two femmes to be fighting to see who would confront the human first.

“Enough,” Optimus’s deep baritone rang through the base, immediately silencing all those present, including Agent Fowler, who was currently staring at Optimus from the main computer screen. When Ratchet had first re-entered the main area, Fowler had been shouting up a storm from the video call, obviously irate about the sudden turn of events. And to his credit, Optimus has been quiet and taken it like a mech.

But it seemed that Primus only granted one so much patience. Everyone stood up straighter as Optimus took his time each and every one of their gazes.

“I understand that the situation has taken an unexpected turn, but there is nothing we can do to change the past. We can only focus on the present.” Optimus met Wheeljack’s optics as he said, “Even though the human has proven to be hostile, I believe that retrieving her from the Decepticons was the correct course of action. Megatron is not well-known for being merciful to organic lifeforms. And even though she holds no gratitude, I am proud of each and every one of you for your actions today.”

“Was still a total waste,” Wheeljack huffed as he crossed his arms and looked away. Bumblebee dug an elbow into Wheeljack’s side and muttered a low buzz of warning. “What? I’m right!” Wheeljack snapped before looking back at Optimus. “Prime, it’s obvious the human’s a Con. She can’t be trusted. Pit, I’m not even sure you should even let her leave the base! She could go crawling back to Megatron the minute she’s gone.”

“She’s not going anywhere on her own,” Agent Fowler piped up from the video chat. The human glanced at Ratchet and nodded slightly. “Ratchet sent me photos of the girl already and I have people running them through our databases. We can use that info to build up a plan for interrogation and incarceration.” Ratchet thanked Primus he’d had the foresight to take a photo as soon as he’d had a clear view of the human.

[Incarceration?] Bee repeated, looking at Arcee with a questioning look.

“What do you mean ‘incarceration?’” Arcee translated for her friend.

“Unless she can prove that she was an unwilling prisoner of the Decepticons - which I highly doubt, given what you’ve all told me about her - she’s going to prison. The Decepticons are considered an enemy of the state. By aligning herself with them, she’s committed treason. Once we finish our interrogation, I’ll bring her back here where she’ll be tried for her crimes.” Ratchet didn’t miss how Bumblebee’s wings drooped slightly, or how Optimus shifted slightly from pede to pede. Optimus must be quite torn up about this, Ratchet thought, for him to be so careless with his body language.

“Good riddance,” Wheeljack snorted.

“I don’t suppose you bots managed to get any other information off the Nemesis while you were aboard?” Fowler asked, his expression almost hopeful. Ratchet fought the urge to roll his optics.

“Unfortunately, we were not able to uncover anything, Agent Fowler” Optimus answered. “How soon will you be here?”

“I just got out of a meeting with a few UN representatives in London. I’ll be on the next flight out.”

“We could send you a groundbridge,” Optimus offered.

“I wish I could take you up on that - really I do. But I’m flying back with one of the representatives from Canada and I’ve been ‘advised’ to discuss a few matters with her. I’ll have to get back to you the ol’ fashioned human way this time.”

Optimus nodded, pressing his lips together in a thin line. “Understood. In the meantime, I will have Ratchet do what he can for the human’s injuries.”

“I’ll bring a medkit when I get there,” Fowler assured him before ending the call.

Ratchet scoffed as he turned back towards his own monitor. He wasn’t sure what Optimus was expecting him to do in regards to the human girl. He knew nothing about human medicine aside from what the children had mentioned in passing over the months that they’d been here. He’d been depending on having Jack and Miko here to help. He had no real need or desire to familiarize himself with human biology. Perhaps he would use this ‘Google’ Miko spoke so frequently of.

“So… what do we do now?” Bulkhead asked. Everyone else seemed to mirror the inquiry and looked to the Prime for an answer. Optimus glanced down the hallway towards the holding cells where the human was currently being held.

“For the time being, we will treat the human as we would any prisoner of war. Ratchet,” he looked to the medic, “Please focus your efforts on tending to the human’s injury.”

“I’ll see what I can do,” he said with a nod.

“Bumblebee,” Optimus turned to their scout, “I need you to look around for any kind of food we can offer the human. I’m sure Miko has left some around here that will suffice.”

[You got it] Bee chirped with a salute before he moved towards the children’s lounging area.

“As for the rest of you,” Optimus made sure he met Wheeljack’s optics as he spoke, “Refuel and recharge. You have all more than earned it.”

Ratchet could tell that Wheeljack and Arcee wanted to say more, but they followed Bulkhead’s example and made their way to their suites to recharge. He watched them go before turning back to his console and pulling up their connection to the humans’ world wide web. His mouth scrunched up slightly as a multicolored line of text appeared on the search engine.

‘I am too fragging old for this.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well... that escalated quickly.
> 
> This was originally going to have more in it, but I was already pushing eighteen pages, so I decided to split it into two. The next chapter is actually about half done! I was thinking about just posting both chapters at the same time, but I decided to space them out to give everyone time to read.
> 
> Get ready, guys. We're going to learn a lot about Amira next time >;3c
> 
> I made a playlist for Amira that I listen to whenever I'm writing her. Here it is! - https://soundcloud.com/geminiwishes/sets/amira  
> Enjoy! ^-^


	11. ...You Get The Claws

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Are y'all ready for this?
> 
> -
> 
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“Are you sure you don’t need an ice pack or something?”

“Yeah, Raf. I’m fine.”

Rafael frowned as he studied the red and purple bruising around Jack’s eyes. Bumblebee had explained what had happened to Jack when he’d taken the young human back home last night but it didn’t do much to prepare Rafael for actually seeing him. He’d flinched away when Bumblebee had opened the passenger’s side door to reveal Jack sitting in the driver’s seat. Bee explained that Optimus had asked Arcee to stay at base for Agent Fowler’s arrival

Jack’s nose was definitely broken - his mother had confirmed it. Bright pink, red, and faint purple splotches stained the bags under Jack’s eyes and met in the middle around his nose. He had a clean white bandage taped over the injury, but Raf could still tell that it was swollen.

[Just got word from Optimus. Fowler just showed up, so be ready] Bee warned as they neared the base. Raf relayed the information to Jack, who gave him a thumbs up. Raf sat up in his seat and wriggled against the seatbelt.

“So, what is she like?” he asked suddenly, glancing over at his friend. Jack turned to look at him, his brow furrowed with confusion. “The girl. What was she like? You know, before the whole uh, punching thing?”

Jack let out a huff before he leaned back in his seat. “She was… angry. I think a big part of it was from the fight to get her out. You know how scary those get when you’re our size.” Rafael nodded in understanding and a silent request to continue. Jack crossed his arms as he stared at Bee’s steering wheel. “She’s also got a mouth on her. She was really quick to start insulting Miko and swearing a lot.”

“Sounds like she was scared,” Raf suggested.

“No, it was… Well, I mean, yeah, I’m sure that’s true. But it was more than that. She was adamant about getting away and when she couldn’t do that, she wouldn’t tell us anything about herself. It’s like she wants to make it difficult for us to help her.” Jack almost sounded insulted by the statement.

“Do you think Wheeljack is right then? About her working for the Cons?” The idea of a human choosing to help Megatron didn’t sit right at all with Rafael. He’d seen firsthand the devastation and pain that the warlord’s actions had caused. He couldn’t imagine anyone ever being okay with that.

“I’m not sure,” answered Jack. “I mean, I definitely get why he thinks that. But I just don’t know if we have all the facts. If she was helping them, I’d say Megatron was lying to her about what he’s trying to do.”

“Do you think it’s something like… like Stockholm syndrome?” That brought on a whole nother slew of twisting knots in Raf’s gut. Jack’s answering frown didn’t do much to sate him either.

“I really don’t know, Raf. Fowler’s going to talk to her, so I’m sure we’ll find out soon enough.” As if in answer, Bumblebee chirped in warning as they entered the base and drove down the tunnel into the main area. Rafael leaned out the window to take everything in.

Optimus and Ratchet were talking to Fowler, who was saying something in a low tone with a deep frown. Even from here, Rafael could see just how exhausted the man was. The bags under his eyes rivaled Jack’s with their deep purple coloring and his shoulders were slumped in a way that Raf had never seen before. He supposed it must have been the jet lag.

Arcee stood at rest near Optimus, listening to their conversation with a trained ear. Bulkhead was a little further back, speaking quietly to Miko from her perch on his left shoulder. Miko definitely looked annoyed - probably because she couldn’t get closer, if Raf had to guess. Wheeljack stood further back, arms crossed as he leaned back against the wall, watching the others with a trained eye. Rafael wasn’t sure what he was thinking, but given the cold frown on his face, he knew it probably wasn’t anything pleasant.

As soon as Bee came to a stop, Rafael climbed out of the cab and made his way towards the others, his backpack thumping against his back with each step. Miko was the first to greet him, waving wildly before she told Bulkhead to put her down. Bulkhead reluctantly obeyed, gathering her in his hand before kneeling down to bring Miko to the ground.

“Just give Optimus and Fowler space, you two. Important politics stuff, you know?” _‘Make sure Miko doesn’t try to interrupt them’_ was the unspoken command. Rafael offered the bot a thumbs up and a smile before turning to Miko.

“So how long ago did you get here?” he asked.

“Not long,” Miko shrugged as she crossed her arms. “I wanted to go see our jailbird, but Ratchet won’t stop blocking the way.” She was pouting, he could tell, but Rafael couldn’t help but be grateful to Ratchet. Even though he hadn’t personally met the girl yet, Raf got the feeling that he wouldn’t take kindly to having Miko berate her with insults and accusations.

“You mean you haven’t made a break for it yet? I’m impressed,” Jack joked as he joined the two of them, offering a small smirk. Miko pursed her lips and squinted in his direction.

“How’s your face?” she asked as she took a step closer to examine the bandage. Jack held his hands up in surrender as he took a step back.

“My mom already took care of it,” he assured her. “It’s broken, but not shattered. She doesn’t think it should have any long-lasting effects, besides maybe being a little crooked. It’s sore though, so don’t touch. Please.” Miko let out a soft grumble at being denied yet again, but she took pity of her friend and didn’t try to push the issue.

“What do you suppose they’re saying?” Raf asked, changing the subject as he nodded his head towards Fowler and Optimus.

“All I heard was something about his flight back before Bulk picked me up,” Miko said with a huffy breath. “Lame.”

“If I may, “ Fowler motioned towards the computer console. Ratchet mumbled something inaudible before typing in something on the keyboard and looking to the agent. Fowler pulled out his phone and typed something into it as well before the computer screen pulled up a new window that filled the screen. Rafael’s knuckles went white from squeezing the straps of his backpack as he recognized what he was looking at.

On the large display was a scanned document that he couldn’t make out from where he was, and next to it was a clear mugshot of a young woman. She had golden brown skin and wavy, tangled black hair that fell out of frame. She was eyeing the camera with dark brown eyes that seemed almost apathetic. Her lips were pressed together in a tight frown, like she wanted to say something but refused to let the words out. Prominent bags hung just under her eyes and Rafael noted the hollowness of them along with her cheeks.

“We got a match for the girl,” Fowler said by way of explanation before turned to look at the display. “Her name is Amira Kadar Sarraf. She’s twenty-one years old and she’s got a record. She and her mother immigrated to the States from Giza when she was four. Her step-father and her mother died within about a year of each other when she was twelve. She was put into foster care, but she was reported a runaway when she was fifteen.”

“She’s a delinquent?” Ratchet asked.

“She was, but she’s aged out of the system. There were a handful of incidents at school involving a few other girls, but no one pressed charges,” Fowler explained. “She evaded the police until she was nineteen, when she was arrested for shoplifting. She served a year in prison, and after getting out, she started to amp up her game. She has a warrant out for her arrest for two separate cases of arson, vandalism, and destruction of public property. And that’s not even including all the additional cases of shoplifting and petty theft.” Fowler looked back up at Optimus with a serious expression. “Needless to say, Boston’s police department was more than a little surprised to hear that we’d found her.”

“Geez,” Bulkhead muttered as he ran a hand over his helm.

“You said the Cons took her from a subway tunnel?” Fowler asked as he looked over to Arcee.

“Yeah,” Arcee confirmed, “Bee saw her running away and one of the drones grabbed her when she was trying to escape.”

“Makes sense. A lot of homeless people set up in unused tunnels. She was probably camping nearby when you and the Cons started firing.”

[I didn’t know humans lived underground...] Bee buzzed quietly, looking to Rafael for some sort of explanation.

Raf could only offer a small shrug before saying “They don’t. I don’t know that much about homelessness, Bee. It’s a big problem here, though. I’m actually a little surprised you guys haven’t run into more homeless people in bigger cities.”

“So, what happens now?” Wheeljack interrupted as he pushed off the wall and moved closer to join the others. “We just let this one take her away? Just like that?” Rafael felt a tug on the back of his collar and turned to see Miko motioning for him to follow.

Thinking that she wanted to make room for Wheeljack, Rafael followed her as she quietly walked around the other Autobots. He frowned slightly when instead of stopping once she’d cleared their path, Miko made a beeline for the hallway that lead further into the base.

“Miko?” he whispered, not wanting to interrupt the others’ discussion. From what he could hear, it was starting to get heated, with Wheeljack leading the charge. Miko only looked over her shoulder and gestured for him to hurry up before disappearing around the corner. Raf’s frown deepened as he glanced back at the bots. They were all in the arguments now, starting to get louder and louder. He met Jack’s questioning expression and gave the teen a defeated shrug before he turned back and ran after Miko.

 

* * *

 

Jack sometimes wished he had one of those leashed backpacks for Miko. She just couldn’t seem to keep still even for a minute. And now she was pressuring Raf into another one of her insane exploits. No way was he going to let Miko and Raf run off on their own - especially when they had a prisoner in the base.

He shot a quick glance over the others to make sure they hadn’t noticed before he stepped away and sprinted towards the hallway. It didn’t take him too long to catch up to Raf and Miko.

“Hey!” he called out as he met their pace. “What are you guys doing? We can’t go off on our own right now.”

“I just followed Miko,” Raf replied as he held up a hand in defense. Jack turned his attention to Miko.

“I knew Wheeljack would gonna blow up eventually,” Miko explained. “It was the perfect cover to sneak in here.”

“Come on, Miko. You know we can’t be in here right now.”

“Hey, I wanna see if Fowler’s right about this chick!”

“What are you- Of course he’s right! Why would he lie about that sort of thing?” Jack let out an an exacerbated groan as he ran a hand through his hair. “Seriously, Miko. We need to head back.”

“You can go back if you want, but I’m gonna see her whether you come or not. And besides,” she shot a wicked grin at him, “I still owe her for your nose.” Jack looked to Rafael in desperation.

“Will you talk some sense into her?” he practically begged. Rafael looked at him for a moment before he reached out and grabbed Miko’s wrist.

“Miko, you’re not really gonna hurt her, are you?” His tone was concerned, and almost disappointed.

“Why shouldn’t I? She hit Jack.”

“That doesn’t mean you hit her back!” Jack exclaimed. “Optimus wouldn’t do it, so neither should you.” Miko glared at him for a long minute before Raf tugged her wrist again.

“Promise you won’t hurt her?” Miko’s glare fell away, turning into a defeated pout.

“...Fine,” she muttered. “But I’m still gonna go see her.” Jack tried to argue, but MIko was off before he could get the words out, and Rafael dutifully followed her. Jack looked back down the hallway towards the main center and let out a huff.

‘This is a bad idea,’ he thought as he joined his friends.

 

* * *

 

It took a little longer than Miko had wanted for them to reach the brig, but soon enough, they were passing by empty cells in search of their prisoner. Jack pushed his hands into his pockets to keep from biting his nails. He’d spent years now trying to break the nervous habit and couldn’t afford to break now.

He wasn’t scared. He knew that, at least. He knew there was no way to open these cells without a keycard or a code that only Optimus and Ratchet had. But as they happened upon the lone occupied cell, Jack felt his stomach start to knot with anxiety. He wasn’t scared, but he definitely wasn’t relaxed.

The girl - Amira, Jack reminded himself - was sitting on the floor, arms crossed with her back against the wall. Her head had lolled to the side and her eyes were closed. She was facing towards them, and Jack realized that she had purposefully set herself up where she could easily see anyone who came by. A small, pale blue pad was draped over her ankle. Juack supposed it was an ice pack that Ratchet had found somewhere. One of the TV trays they kept at the base lay a few feet away in the middle of the hallway, miscellaneous snacks scattered all over the floor. It almost looked like it had been forcibly shoved away.

Miko either hadn’t noticed or disregarded it as she stomped over to the cell and banged her fist against the bars. “Wakey wakey!” she shouted.

“Miko!” Jack chided as he moved closer to stop her, mindful to not step on any food. Amira flinched slightly before she stirred. Her eyes fluttered open before she peered up at the two teenagers, her face twisted in an expression of distaste.

“Go away,” she muttered before turning her head to face away from them.

“No way,” Miko retorted as she glared down at her. “You got some serious explaining to do.” Amira didn’t answer as she ignored them. Jack briefly wondered how long that would last before Miko spoke again. “I hear you’re a full-fledged criminal. Did you really set a building on fire? What sort of stuff did you steal? Money? Tech? Government secrets?”

For a moment, Amira continued to ignore Miko. But after a beat or two, her head slowly rolled up to look up at them. “You know,” Amira hummed, her voice rough from sleep, “You _can_ breathe through your mouth without speaking. I know it must be hard, but you could at least  make an effort.” Somehow, even when she was clearly exhausted, Amira had found a way to add bite to her tone.

“At least I don’t make a giant mess of perfectly good snacks,” Miko snapped back, kicking a few stray potato chips to emphasize her point.

“If you really think I’m going to just eat whatever you give me, you’re even stupider than I thought.”

“We didn’t do anything to the food,” Jack insisted, “We wouldn’t do something like that.” Amira’s eyes fell onto him, and Jack had to forcibly keep himself from visibly tensing up in front of her. Her eyes were frigid and calculating as she glared at him. She let out a weak snort as she allowed a small smirk to curl the edge of her mouth.

“Why Jack, what happened to your face?” She all but purred it as she smirked at him.

“You know exactly what happened!” Miko shouted.

Amira looked back at Miko as her smirk fell away. “Stars, you’re like an angry chihuahua, just ‘yap, yap, yap’ all the time.” She rolled her eyes. “Don’t you ever get tired?”

“You punched my friend in the face!”

“Maybe next time he’ll remember to think before he speaks,” Amira hummed. “I’d offer you the same advice, but I know it’d be lost on you.” She brought a hand up to tap a finger against her head. Jack could see that Miko was shaking. He knew this had been a bad idea. Steeling himself, Jack reached out to place a hand on his friend’s shoulder to help calm her down.

“I know what your problem with me is.”

Amira’s smirked returned. “Do you now?” she said with amusement.

“Yeah. You’re jealous of me.”

Amira stared at Miko for a moment, that smirk slowly growing into a full-on grin as she began to laugh. “Jealous?” she snickered. “Is that the best you can come up with?” She glanced away from Miko, her amused expression ever present. “Really, if you’re going to accuse me of something, you could at least try to be a bit more.... original….” Her words died away as did her smile. Jack frowned at her sudden change in behavior and followed her line of sight, only to feel his blood go cold.

Amira was staring right at Rafael.

Miko seemed to notice as well, turning her head to look at their friend. Raf was gripping his backpack tighter than ever, his shoulders hunched and his posture stiff as he met Amira’s stare head-on.

“Hello,” Amira said gently, making a complete 180 in her attitude. Jack blinked with surprise at the sudden softness as Amira shifted in her seat to sit up straighter.

“...Hi,” Raf said quietly, his eyes never leaving her. Amira looked over him for a moment before glaring back at Jack.

“Tell me you’re joking,” she hissed, that earlier suddenly back. It took Jack a moment to realize that she was expecting him to answer her.

“What uh, What do you mean?” he stammered. He was working overtime to try and understand just what was happening.

“Tell me that Optimus Prime isn’t stupid enough to think that someone his age has any reason to be here.” She pointed at Raf as she glared up at Jack.

“What is up with you and our age?” Miko interrupted, stepping in front of Jack to effectively block Amira’s view of him.

“It just wasn’t bad enough that they had teenagers involved, was it?” Amira growled. “Now you have little kids tangled up in it too.”

“Why do you even care?” Miko asked again, quickly losing her patience.

“Who said I did?”

“You did! Just now!”

“No. I was stating a fact. I never said anything about me caring personally.” Amira looked away for a moment as she shrugged. “It’s a terrible idea to involve children in a war. Not to mention a liability.”

“We’re not a liability.” Rafael’s voice was quieter than normal, but he was still loud enough to earn their attention. Amira turned back to him as her frown softened.

“Yes, you are.” There was no malice in her words - only a sense of firm certainty. “You’re tiny. You don’t understand the full extent of their conflict or know how to properly defend yourselves. You’re a weakness.” She said it like she was gently chastising a misbehaving child.

That’s how she saw Raf, Jack realized. Just a misbehaving, misguided child who needed an adult to explain why what he was doing was wrong.

“Hey! We’re not weak!” Miko snapped. “We’ve helped the Bots tons of times! We saved them from a swarm of scraplets once.”

“Really?” Amira questioned. “That’s it?”

“We took down a zombie con and traveled to another dimension!”

Amira snorted as she looked up at the ceiling. "You’ll have to forgive me if I don’t believe you,” she said. “And even if you did, I doubt the Prime sent you off on his command.” Her eyes fell back onto Miko. “I’m going to take a guess here and say that you snuck out without permission and somehow landed yourself in that situation on accident. You probably killed the ‘zombie con’ due to a fluke - the same way you managed to get back.”

Amira leaned forward at she glared at them both. “The only reason any of you are still alive is dumb luck.”

“Listen here,” Miko hissed as she wrapped a hand around one of the bars. “We’re Autobots, whether you like it or not.”

“Oh, the same way you’re a Wrecker?” Amira snorted.

“I _am_ a Wrecker!”

“No, you’re not.” The amusement in Amira’s tone was slowly fading away, leaving behind only a frigid bite. “Just being called a Wrecker doesn’t make you one.”

“Bulkhead says I am, so I am.”

“Really? So you did all the basic training?” Miko worked her jaw, but didn’t say anything. “No? What about the entrance exam? Did you take one?”

“I didn’t know the Wreckers had to take an exam,” Rafael said with curiosity. Jack blinked in surprise. Neither did he.

Amira spared him a small nod. “They do. Both a physical and written exam. Not something you’d expect, given what they’re known for, but if you ask Bulkhead, he’ll tell you all about it.” She looked back at Miko, who still hadn’t said anything, choosing instead to glare daggers at the prisoner as she curled her hands into fists. “Or maybe he won’t.” That got a low growl out of the teenager.

Amira smirked as she continued. “Did you even give the oaths?” Jack kept his hand on Miko’s shoulder, giving her a reassuring squeeze. “No?” Amira patronized. “Then you’re not a Wrecker. The same way you’re not Autobots.”

“Then what are you?” Jack accused. He fought to keep his tone firm as he stared down at the woman in the cell. He refused to let her words get to Miko. Amira tilted her head to the side, as if deciding what exactly to say. She rested her cheek in one hand before finally meeting his eyes.

“I’m a Decepticon.”

“No, you’re not,” Miko practically spat out as she glowered at her. “You just went on this rant about steps. There’s no way you actually joined them.”

“Except that I did.”

“Oh, yeah? Then where’s your badge, huh?”

Amira’s answering smile was nothing less than predatory. “Show me yours, I’ll show you mine.” Miko growled with frustration, running her hands through her hair as she stepped away from the cell bars to pace. Both Jack and Rafael watched her seethe as Amira quietly chuckled. The sound made Jack glare back at her.

“All you did was prove her right,” he said, “You’re not one of them.”

Amira hummed as she smirked up at him for a moment before she was moving. She grabbed one of the bars as she pulled herself up, wobbling as she tried to balance on her good foot. Jack watched as Amira regained her stance before she looked back up at him. Jack noted with a pang of anxiety that she was perhaps an inch or so taller than he was - something he hadn’t noticed before.

“Wanna see anyway?” she purred. Jack didn’t understand at first, until Amira reached for her plaid shirt. He made to look away, but she peeled it off before he had a chance, revealing a black halter top underneath. He made to let out a sigh of relief, until Amira turned to show off her left shoulder.

There, in bright black and purple ink, was a tattoo in the shape of the Decepticon insignia. Jack felt his stomach and heart shoot up into his throat as he stared at her arm. He briefly glanced over to Miko, only to find that she too was staring, her mouth hung open in shock. Rafael stood close by, his face going visibly pale as he took in the symbol as well.

“Leaves you speechless, doesn’t it?” Amira hummed as she ran a finger along the detailed edge of the tattoo as if she was caressing a lover. “I didn’t have a ceremony, per say, but I was given the mark on Megatron’s orders. And I made promises to him that I intend to keep.”

“Do you realize what you’ve done?” Jack asked quietly as he met Amira’s eyes. “Amira, they’re evil. All of them - especially Megatron.” He wanted to scream it. He wanted to take her by the shoulders and shake her until she saw reason. But he knew that he couldn’t, and it wouldn’t solve anything anyway.

“There’s no such thing as evil,” she replied as she leaned her other arm against the cool metal of the cell bars. “There’s no such thing as evil people or good people - there’s simply just people. Some of which are willing to break societal norms to accomplish their own personal goals. Megatron is simply willing to do what it takes to get what he wants, by any means necessary. And that’s something that Optimus Prime and his precious Autobots could never hope to do.”

“He wants to kill all of them!” A little voice in Jack’s head told him he shouldn’t get so openly frustrated, but it was too late. His frustration had been simmering ever since they first reached the cell, and it seemed that it had finally reached a boiling point. “And not just the Autobots; Megatron wants to destroy all of humanity! Everyone, Amira!”

“You think he’s going to kill off a perfectly viable resource?”

“What resource?”

“Humans.” Amira said it so nonchalantly, as if she were simply discussing the weather. “True, humans are tiny, weak little things, but given the right direction and initiative, they make for decent enough slave labor. I’ve also heard there may be place for humans on the galactic exotic pet market.”

“You’re insane,” he breathed out. He could feel his hands turning cold and clammy as they tightened into fists at his sides.

“No. I’m realistic,” she retorted. “I understand that humans are not the dominant species anymore. I’ve accepted it. I’m not under any delusions about what’s going to happen next.” Her eyes moved from Jack over to Miko as that wicked smile returned. “Do you know what the difference is between you and I, Miko?”

“Yeah. I’m not some crazy psycho who’s friends with Megatron.”

“Good guess, but no,” Amira said, brushing off the insult with ease. She leaned in closer, so close that Jack was sure she would try to push her face up in between two of the bars. “The difference between you and I,” Amira said with sudden softness, “is that I actually know where I stand in this war. I may not be able to be a front-liner, but there are other ways that I may serve. I have a badge, a position, colleagues - hell, I even have boring paperwork I have to do. And you simply exist, throwing a title you didn’t earn around like it’s supposed to mean something. But you don’t have their respect.

“You’re just a mascot, Miko. A cute little human that they keep around to make themselves feel better after slaughtering Cybertronians. Your presence is their excuse to keep fighting a losing battle. You make them feel better about destroying themselves and they let you feel like you actually matter.” Amira leaned even further in, her smile slowly curling up even further. “But deep, deep down, I think you already know that. Because why else would you need to constantly defend your title? You aren’t really reminding the others - you’re just trying to convince yourself.”

Amira’s smile was nothing short of predatory as she said “But by all means, keep it up. It’s fun to watch.”

“Miko!” Bulkhead’s low voice called out, followed by the thud of massive footsteps and Bumblebee’s concerned buzzing. Jack turned in time to see both Autobots practically sprinting towards them. Jack grimaced, knowing that they were all in for a fierce scolding for this.

“Better run back to your bot,” Amira hummed, “He shouldn’t be away from his service dog too long.” Any kind of retort went unheard as Bulkhead and Bumblebee soon joined the children in front of the cell. Bumblebee knelt before Rafael, bringing his helm closer as he beeping and whirred with what Jack could only assume was concern.

“What are you all doing here? Miko, I told you that you can’t be back here.” Miko was staring at Amira, glaring at her like she was trying to set her on fire with her mind. She looked like she wanted to scream, like she was barely holding herself back from punching Amira through the bars. Jack wasn’t sure if he’d even try to stop her if she tried.

“I’m okay, Bee,” Raf said quietly as he climbed into Bumblebee’s outstretched hand. Bee gave another series of chirps and buzzes as he brought the boy up closer to his optics, quietly examining him for any sign of harm. After a moment, Bee nodded and let out a low beep in Bulkhead’s direction, which the Wrecker returned with anod of his own.

“Come on,” Bulkhead said as he held out both hands to Miko and Jack. “Fowler and Optimus are coming, and we got orders to leave them alone.” Miko made no move to climb into Bulk’s hand, and Jack wondered for a moment if she had even heard him. She and Amira simply held each other’s gaze, Miko glaring daggers and scowling while Amira smiled smugly as she leaned against the cell bars.

“Come on, Miko,” Jack said quietly, gently lacing his fingers through hers before tugging her towards Bulkhead. Miko didn’t look away, but she didn’t fight him as he guided her into Bulkhead’s hand. Jack could feel Bulkhead’s relief as he gently picked up both teenagers and turned to head back to the main area. Miko made a face at Amira before their view was cut off by Bulkhead’s massive form, and Jack chose to say nothing.

They were almost to the main area when they met with Optimus, Ratchet, and Agent Fowler. Ratchet looked none too pleased to be coming along, but he said nothing, instead choosing to simply glance in Optimus’ direction. Jack withered slightly under the Prime’s disapproving frown.

“I am sure I do not need to reiterate how the brig is off limits,” Optimus said, his tone firm.

“We’re sorry,” Raf piped up from Bee’s hand, looking up at Optimus with regret in his eyes. Optimus took his time to meet all three of them in the eye before humming.

“Please, for both our security and your safety, do not attempt to do this again.”

“Totally,” Jack said quickly, not wanting to give Miko time to say something that would only land them deeper in hot water. “Won’t happen again. Promise.”

Optimus only nodded before looking down at Fowler. “If you would follow me, Agent Fowler,” he said before continuing down the hallway. Fowler followed behind at a brisk pace, trying and failing to keep up with the Autobot leader. Ratchet gave both Bee and Bulkhead a look before he too followed after them.

Jack groaned as he hung his head. If there was one thing he hated, it was Optimus’ disappointment.

 

* * *

 

Amira watched as Bumblebee and Bulkhead walked away with the children, making sure to keep smiling. The moment they were out of sight, that smile fell, replaced with an irritated scowl. Her entire leg was burning with pain, but she didn’t try to sit back down. She wrapped both of her hands around the cell bars and pressed her forehead against the cool metal. The bite of cold sent a chill through her, but she didn’t pull away. She embraced the discomfort of it all, allowing the feelings it created to fester into rage.

Her mind was reeling with this latest discovery. The Autobots had two teenager and a child in their company. Somehow, their presence had been not only allowed, but encouraged.

And Jack said that Megatron was evil?

She knew that he would no doubt tell the others about their conversation and about her badge, further cementing the fact that she was not a helpless human, but a captured Decepticon agent.

She pondered that last part for a moment - Was she an agent? She’d never asked what her actual rank or title was. She’d have to ask Soundwave.

A small voice told her that she should have been doing more to convince the Autobots that she was a victim, that she could be trusted. But she was too tired and too angry to care anymore. So what if they knew she’d chosen to serve the Decepticons? So what if they discovered her tattoo and learned how she really felt about this war? So what if she scared their precious little human pets?

She’d decided that if she couldn’t play the victim, she would play the villain. She would widdle out every bit of intel she could scrap together. She would boast and manipulate and fight with everything she had to escape this place and cripple them in every possible way.

And she was going to fight dirty.

And the first step was to sow doubt and mistrust amongst them. Miko had made a decent enough effort to not let Amira’s words visibly shake her, but she could see the small chip she’d made in the teenager’s confidence. Even if all that became of this conversation was the wary reality that she was indeed not a Wrecker, it was enough. All Amira had to do was keep chipping, piece by piece, until that girl’s resolve crumbled around her, bringing the rest of the team down with her.

She wouldn’t stop there, though. If she really wanted to create a wedge in this faction, she’d need to plant seeds in one of the Autobots as well. Someone who wouldn’t simply be written off the first time they aired their grievances.

It was while she was pondering this that three figures approached her. Amira made no move to step away from the bars, but she did lift her head up enough to meet one of the newcomers’ eyes. He was an older black gentleman with curly, close-cut black hair and a square jaw. His expression was sternful, if a bit tired, and his posture straight, implying that he was military. The round gut and business suit, however, pointed to an office job of some kind. A liason, then. It didn’t take much thought for her to place who he was.

“Agent Fowler, I presume?” she hummed, allowing her head to tilt slightly as she smiled in greeting. The man’s jaw shifted for a moment and Amira could have sworn she heard it click before he spoke.

“That’s right.” The man nodded towards the Autobot to his right, who she recognized as the medic from earlier. “Ratchet here is going to help me put that ankle of yours in a splint.” The medic pulled out a red plastic case with the words ‘FIRST AID’ written in reflective white. He handed the case to Agent Fowler before pulling up something on the screen in his arm.

“Bold of you to assume I’ll let you anywhere near me,” she said calmly, maintaining eye contact with him as her smile lessened a fraction. Fowler studied her for a moment.

“You’ve got a nasty break there. You didn’t receive any immediate medical attention, and all prisoners have a right to medical care.”

“So I _am_ a prisoner then.” She tilted her head back and forth on a show of thinking it over. “How do you know I won’t just give you a nose to match Jack’s, hm?” A sense of twisted delight filled her at the way Ratchet stiffened. So that got a reaction out of him, huh? Good. Let him be disgusted.

“Because if we don’t take care of your foot, the bone won’t heal right and you’ll walk with a limp.” Amira studied him for a moment. She knew he was right. Simply icing and elevating her foot wouldn’t do much for her ankle. But that meant letting this suit get near her and letting him help her.

She swallowed down her pride as she nodded towards him. “Fair point.” It was as good of a confirmation as she was going to give him. Fowler walked over to the door and pulled a keycard out of a pocket inside his suit jacket. Amira kept her eyes glued to the little plastic card as he swiped it through a reader. There was a beep followed by a heavy thunk of metal. Fowler pulled the door open and tucked the card away before entering the cell. Amira made a mental note - inner pocket on left breast - and finally leaned back from the bars to face Fowler.

“Have a seat,” Fowler said as he motioned to the floor. She waited until he opened the giant kit and began rifling through it before she slowly lowered herself to the floor, keeping her back to the wall. Fowler pulled out a few rolls of gauze along with a few blue packets and a large, strange-shaped piece of cardboard. She watched him closely, waiting to see if he tried to pull anything suspicious while she wasn’t paying attention. She tensed when he pulled out a small white bottle that rattled as he set it down.

“What is that?” she demanded. He looked up at her in confusion for a moment before his eyes followed hers to the bottle.

“It’s only Tylenol,” he assured her as he picked up the bottle and offered it to her. She made no move to take it.

“I’m _not_ taking those.”

“Come on, kid. You gotta be in a lot of pain with that ankle.”

“Don’t call me kid,” she hissed, “If you’re going to call anyone ‘kid’, try the three children wandering around this base.” She peered at Ratchet out of the corner of her eye, and took in the other Autobot standing nearby. Optimus Prime was staring down at her with a stern expression that she couldn’t quite read. Crazy as the mech was for his choice in allies, she could begrudgingly respect how good his poker face was.

Fowler cleared his throat to get her attention. “Mind stretching out your foot for me?” She’d normally make a joke of some kind about that, but she thought better of it and simply stuck out her foot for him to take. He gently wrapped a hand around her heel and slid the cardboard piece under her leg. She winced at the pressure of his hand, but quickly bit into the inside of her cheek to muffle any noise of pain. He began to fold along the cardboard, creating a box around her foot. He used a roll of medical tape to keep the box’s shape, and paused once he moved to fold the cardboard around her foot.

“I think I might need that shirt,” Fowler said as he pointed to her plaid shirt. Amira frowned and wrapped it protectively around herself.

“Why?”

“I don’t have anything big enough to help keep your foot secure inside the splint,” he answered simply. She frowned at the frustrating logic of it. But despite that, she complied without further argument. She pulled off the shirt and balled it up before almost shoving it into Fowler’s outstretched hand.

A choke caught her attention and Amira turned to see Ratchet gaping at her. She scowled at him for a moment before realizing that he was staring at her shoulder. She glanced down at her tattoo, noting how it glimmered slightly in the dim light, and looked back up at the medic with a shameless grin. She held his bright blue gaze, silently daring him to say something about the insignia on her skin. Ratchet stared at the mark like he couldn’t believe what he was seeing. He turned to look to Optimus Prime for either guidance or an explanation.

Amira peered up at the Prime, finding his eyes also fixed on her arm. His stern expression seemed to grow deeper the longer she stared at him. She could see the inner workings of his eyes spinning, constricting and expanding as his lips curled slightly into a small grimace. His entire demeanor took on a faint kind of somberness. If she didn’t know any better, she’d think he looked almost worried.

“There we go,” Fowler said. Amira examined the splint as the man began to pack up the first aid kit. Thick cardboard folded into a three-sided splint that bent at the heel to force her foot to rest at a ninety degree angle. Her shirt had been stuffed next to her ankle to keep it tucked in one place, with the sleeves wrapped around to keep it from chaffing. Fowler stood up and grabbed the kit’s handle before looking down at her. “Now, since we’ve gotten to know each other, I think it’s time I asked you some questions.”

“Oh, you do, do you?” Amira didn’t like their current position - her on the floor and this man standing over her. Fowler turned on his heel and made for the door, much to her confusion and frustration. She didn’t try to stop him though. She knew there was no way she could snag that keycard now - not with this bulky splint and two Autobots watching. So she decided instead on transferring herself from the floor to the metal bunk.

By the time she’d managed to pull herself onto the thin plastic pad and adjusted to make herself comfortable, Fowler was standing just on the outside of the bars with a tablet, the first aid kit nowhere to be seen.

“Let’s start with something simple,” Fowler said as he swiped a finger across the screen, white light illuminating his face. He looked up at her. “Why don’t you tell me your name?”

Amira snorted. “You’re with the government. Surely you’ve found my files by now.” Fowler only hummed as he ticked something off. “Why don’t you come inside if you want to talk so badly, Agent Fowler?”

“Because like you said earlier, I don’t know if you’ll try to hit me. While we’re on that subject,” he looked up at her, “Why did you hit Jack?”

“I slipped.”

“Slipped my aft-” Ratchet grumbled before Optimus placed a hand on his shoulder. Amira allowed her eyes to fall from Fowler to the Autobots. So, the medic had a temper as well? Good.

“Look, I know that you don’t really care about why I hit a kid,” she made sure to enunciate when she said ‘kid’, “so why don’t you just skip to the questions you really want to ask, Agent?”

“Alright. What can you tell me about the warehouse you’ve been accused of deliberately setting on fire three years ago?” Amira rolled her eyes. He was still trying to bring up things that didn’t matter right now?

“What’s there to tell? I set it on fire. The end.”

“Yes, but what I want to know is why.”

“I was cold.”

Fowler stared at her, clearly unamused. “A bit overkill, don’t you think?”

“I was _really_ cold.” And angry. And tired. But what did it matter anymore? The building was gone. It was over and done with. Maybe giving him vague, snarky answers would finally push the idiot into getting to the point.

“And the multiple cases of destruction of public property?”

“It’s called art.”

“When you don’t have a permit, it’s called graffitti, and that’s illegal.”

“Wow, I had no idea. Truly, I’m broken up over it.”

“I’m trying to help you, Amira.”

“See? You do already know my name.” She took pride in making Fowler rub his temple with his free hand.

“Well, I won’t ask about the shoplifting and loitering charges.” He swiped along the tablet’s screen again before asking, “You know, they have homeless shelters in Boston. Any particular reason why you didn’t go to one of them?”

Oh, she had reasons. Memories of those first few weeks on the streets left goosebumps along her arms as she remembered when she’d first visited one of the shelters. The mere memory of the owner’s nasally tone made her shudder. As did the stinking, mildew-filled showers. And the thinly-veiled threats towards her and other female residents. And the disgusting slop they passed off for dinners. And the hands.

She shoved the intrusive thoughts away as she met his eye. “I thought I’d be better off on my own.”

“Alright. Why not at least go to one of the soup kitchens then? There’s reports on here of you stealing a lot of food.” Maybe because they never gave her enough to actually fill her, she thought bitterly. Amira bit her cheek as she fought to keep down her frustration. None of this would change what came next. She knew that. He knew that. She was starting to think that he knew she knew. But she couldn’t simply say nothing.

“Have you ever been hungry, Agent Fowler?” The man’s concentrated expression never wavered. She went on. “And I don’t mean ‘worked so long I missed breakfast and lunch’ hungry. I mean, _really_ hungry. Like you haven’t eaten for a few days.” She leaned forward in her seat as she kept her eyes glued to him. “Do you know what that feels like?”

He didn’t seem perturbed by her words. Neither did either of the Autobots behind him. That was fine, she decided. She didn’t care if they were or not.

“Do you know what the Decepticons have done?” Fowler finally asked, apparently deciding he’d had enough of dancing around the issue. “Not even just throughout their war, but what they’ve done since they came to Earth?”

“I get the sense you’re going to tell me either way,” she sighed, making sure to lace disinterest into her tone.

“Countless artifacts and archeological sites have been decimated. Top secret technology all over the world has been stolen. And that doesn’t even begin to cover all the people they’ve killed, both directly and indirectly.” He tapped something on the tablet. “Do you know how we knew you were still alive after your initial capture?” He turned the tablet around, showing her the image of a familiar older woman.

“Aw, you know Gina?” Amira asked, smirking at the photo of the woman who’s name was on the credit card she’d used.

“We knew that you were the one using her card because she was captured by Decepticons over three years ago. We had to cover up the disappearance and buried the victims’ information once we knew that there was no way to save them. Imagine our surprise when we get a hit that Miss Ramirez is suddenly back from the dead and going on a shopping spree in the Mall of America.”

She knew he was expecting her to react to the news. Probably wanting her to gasp and cover her mouth in shock or start saying that she had no idea. But in truth? She’d suspected it had been something like that. Soundwave didn’t leave the Nemesis that often, and she doubted that when he did, he wasted his time pickpocketing old women. Gina Ramirez had been brought on board the Nemesis - and it had been a one-way trip.

She simply sighed as she leaned back on her hands, a silent invitation to continue. Fowler scowled at that.

“They’ve tapped into global communications. They’ve hacked countless databases and collected personal information on countless government officials.”

“So it’s fine when the government spies on people, but when aliens do it, suddenly it’s an inexcusable crime?” She smirked at Fowler with a sense of smugness that she only felt partially.

“It’s a high security risk! They could get their hands on weapons that would be devastating to all of humanity.”

“Like?” She could tell that Fowler was quickly losing his patience with her. Good. Let him get angry. He may get sloppy with his answers then.

“Like the launch codes! Recipes for biological warfare! The Decepticons could very well send us all back into the Dark Ages, if they don’t kill us.”

“You must think very highly of humanity if you think Megatron would kill everyone.”

Fowler glared at her, his grip tightening around the tablet. “What do you mean?”

Amira simply shrugged. “Do you really think Megatron sees humans as a threat? Why would he waste his time killing humans when he can use them?” She glanced up at the ceiling.

“And just what exactly would Megatron want to use humans for?” Fowler’s tone had changed to something that sounded much more business than before. Amira fought down a groan of frustration. If he was trying to be professional, that meant he was channeling his anger, meaning he’d be more guarded about information.

“Labor, mostly. Entertainment. Everyone likes those dancing monkeys you find at the circus.”

“What would Megatron need humans to work for?”

He probably thought he was tricking her into telling him Megatron’s plans by getting her to defend her reasons for aligning with them. Clever. But she wasn’t so easily manipulated.

“What, and ruin the surprise?” She glanced at her hands, fighting the urge to pick at her nails. Calm and confident - that’s what she needed to be. “You assume a lot, Agent Fowler. You really think I have information about any sort of plans? That I’ve reached a high enough position to have access to that kind of knowledge in the - what? - two months I’ve been with them? I’m flattered you think so highly of me, but even I’m not _that_ good.”

“You know what’s really bugging me about you?”

“Hm?”

“I just told you about Decepticons killing countless humans, even kidnapping and possibly experimenting on them. You admitted that humans will most likely be made into slaves if Megatron gets his way. And not once have I seen you act upset about that. You haven’t even flinched.” Amira didn’t try to refute what he said, choosing instead to stare at him. Fowler’s expression shifted into one of slight concern. “Did Megatron threaten you with something? Or do you know something that I don’t?”

“Did you actually _read_ my file, Agent Fowler? Or did you just read the summary and skim it?” Fowler’s stare didn’t waver as his frown deepened. “You really do assume a lot. Too much, really.” She leaned further back against the wall. “What makes you think I care what happens to humanity?”

“Of course you do. All humans have a sense of empathy towards others.”

“That’s a very broad term. Are you sure you want to stick with it?”

“Are you telling me you don’t care about any humans at all?”

“Why should I?”

“Not one. Not even the ones you knew? Friends, family, teachers?”

“You really should have read my file.” Amira felt a sense of triumph fill her as she smiled at the man. Most of the time, she didn’t like telling people what she really thought about them, or about people in general. But right now, she was getting a kick out of Fowler’s reactions. She could even see Ratchet and Optimus starting to look a bit uncomfortable as well.

Fowler was staring at her like he didn’t know whether to be angry or horrified or both. It was a surprisingly satisfying thing to see. Amira held up a hand to make a show of examining her nails just to add insult to injury.

“Not even Lucas?”

She froze.

 

* * *

 

Ratchet had been divided between staying or leaving for a while now. He’d only been asked to attend this questioning to make sure that the girl’s vital signs hadn’t dropped at all in the time since he’d last checked. A quick infrared scan had confirmed that she wasn’t dying, only suffering from the broken ankle and some internal bruising that looked too old to have been from the rescue, and that was good enough.

He’d shown Fowler how to apply and tie off the splint after reading the instructions and doing some quick research of his own. Human medicine was ridiculously simple - he only hoped he wouldn’t have to subject himself to any more.

The girl had been quite pleased with herself when they had shown up, no doubt proud of herself for whatever she had said to the children. Rafael had looked a shade white than normal when Ratchet had seen Bumblebee and Bulkhead bring the children back to the control room.

He thought that perhaps he should ask the children what she had said to make her this smug. The way she so casually threatened Fowler was concerning as well. She hadn’t raised her voice or made any attempt to attack him, but Fowler was not taking any chances, it seemed.

He’d been debating comming Optimus to ask permission to return to the control room when the girl had taken off a layer of clothing and exposed the Decepticon logo emblazoned on her shoulder. Ratchet felt the energon in his frame run cold as he stared at the insignia he knew all too well.

To see it on a human was surprisingly unnerving. As was the grin she gave him when he’d met her eye.

Ratchet had paid closer attention to the girl as Fowler went on with the interrogation. She held this relaxed air about her as she answered Fowler’s questions with simple, vague answers. It was incredibly frustrating, and it was starting to show on the man’s face. Ratchet didn’t miss how the girl had smiled, seeming rather pleased with herself at that.

When the girl had begun speaking about her apathy towards other humans, Ratchet started getting uncomfortable. The concept wasn’t a foreign one - Ratchet had heard of and met many Cybertronians throughout his life who had no love for their fellow mechs. A great deal of them had been the first to flee when the war had started to become more detrimental to the safety of civilians.

But humans were social creatures. They thrived off of interaction with others of their species. Isolating a human usually resulted in loss of sanity and self-destructive thoughts. It was used as a punishment in some human prisons to be cut off from others for extended periods of time. They could actually die without human interaction.

The idea that a human could hold such animosity towards their own species sounded almost preposterous. And yet, the human girl seemed quite confident in herself as she renounced holding any affection for any and all humans she’d interacted with.

“Not even Lucas?”

The change in the girl’s mood was instantaneous. She had stilled, the grin sliding off her face as it was replaced by a cold scowl. The hand she’d been examining slowly closed into a tight fist as her jaw twitched. After a moment, her eyes finally flicked up to stare at Agent Fowler, seeming to somehow pierce through the older human.

“...What did you just say?” She said it in such a calm tone, but Ratchet had been around long enough to recognize cold fury when he saw it. And this girl was radiating with it.

Fowler didn’t answer her, choosing instead to hold her stare in an act of defiance. The girl struggled to her feet, wobbling slightly as she tried her best to maneuver the splint. She limped closer to the bars, keeping Fowler’s stare as she limped.

“Come on, say it again,” she hissed as she wrapped a hand around on of the bars. “Lets see if you have the balls.”

To his credit, Agent Fowler did not seem perturbed by her malice. He only glanced down at the datapad in his hand before speaking again. “You’ve spent quite a lot of time and energy trying to get into contact with him. But from the looks of it, I’d say you haven’t had any luck.” The girl’s eyes widened, and Ratchet was truly impressed that Agent Fowler didn’t flinch. “If you can tell me what you know about Megatron’s plans, I might be able to pull some strings so you can see him.”

“Really now?”

Ratchet debated suggesting that Fowler take a step back so that he was out of her reach. The girl simply stared at him with that wide-eyed, crazed expression.

Without warning, she leaned forward and spat at him.

Fowler cursed as he took a step back and reached up to wipe the saliva off his face. Ratchet saw Optimus shift out of the corner of his optic.

“All you government fucks are the same,” the girl hissed as she glowered at Agent Fowler, gripping the cell bars with white-knuckled hands, looking like she was going to attempt to rip the bars off. “We’re done here.”

“We’re done when I _say_ we’re done!” Fowler snapped, having finally lost his temper.

“Agent Fowler,” Optimus’ low baritone interrupted, drawing everyone’s attention. “Perhaps it would be best to try speaking at another time. I do not believe any further progress will be made today.” Fowler looked none too pleased to being told to stand down, but Ratchet was quick to assist his friend in diffusing the situation.

“I’m sure that your supervisor is expecting a report regarding our current situation. And we have cots available if you would like to rest, Agent Fowler.” For a moment, Ratchet was sure that the man was going to start yelling and throwing a tantrum the way he usually did, but both Ratchet’s relief and surprise, Fowler simply grunted and ran a hand over his face before tucking the datapad under his arm.

He turned to glare at the girl, grumbling “This isn’t over,” and began to stomp down the hall back to the control room. Ratchet watched him go before looking back to Optimus. His friend simply tilted his helm in a gesture for Ratchet to follow after him. The silent request to be left alone with the girl wasn’t lost on the medic, but he still grimaced before begrudgingly doing as Optimus asked.

 

* * *

 

Optimus Prime watched Ratchet’s retreating form until he turned the corner before he looked down at the human girl in the cell. She was still standing at the bars, staring down at the floor as she squeezed the cell bars. She said nothing, made no move to look up at him or even acknowledge his presence.

She was a curiosity, indeed. Optimus had seen furious humans before - it seemed to be a constant for him in the early days of their arrival on Earth. At that time, Agent Fowler had actually been rather calm in comparison. He’d seen rage of all kinds amongst those humans, and had noted that most of their mal contempt had stemmed from a fierce sense of protectiveness for both themselves and their people.

Amira’s anger was something to behold. Optimus knew he would be having words with Agent Fowler regarding future attempts to question her. But her rage had been different in that it held no hidden desire to protect her people. There was no desire to protect fellow humans - and surprisingly, none to protect the Decepticons.

He made no mistake in the knowledge that she indeed felt loyal to Megatron, but that loyalty had not been the motivator for such fury.

No. When Optimus beheld the girl’s behavior, he found that it was neither protectiveness nor loyalty that drove her, but sorrow. Possibly surrender. She was suffering - most likely long before she had met the Decepticons.

Optimus only hoped that he would be able to appeal to that suffering.

“I am sure you could have found a different way to convey your anger towards Agent Fowler,” he opened. Amira’s shoulders shook with a snort, but she still did not look up at him. He went on. “If there is someone you wish to speak to, I may be of assistance.”

“Are you really going to play that?” She tilted her head up, those dark brown eyes soon finding his optics. “I’m almost insulted, Prime.”

“I do not understand.”

“You’re really trying to play the ‘good cop’ act?” Amira rolled her eyes and shook her head. “I’m not that gullible. I don’t want your help. I don’t _need_ your help.”

“Agent Fowler wishes to help you, Amira.”

“No, he doesn’t. He’s only saying that because now I’m a threat.” She looked away, towards the direction Ratchet and Agent Fowler had left down. “I’ve talked to enough cops and government lackies to know how they work. He won’t actually help me. People like him only stick to the word of their promises, but not the spirit of them.” Optimus frowned at that.

“Can you explain?”

She glanced up at him again, annoyance and frustration written all over her face. “He said he could let me see Lucas, but that doesn’t mean I might actually get to talk to him. For all I know, he’ll just give me a recent photo of him so I know what he looks like now.”

“And this Lucas… he is special to you?”

Amira didn’t answer him for a long time. He did not try to continue speaking, in the hopes that she might elaborate. “...Yes,” she said quietly after a time. She swallowed before looking back down at the floor. “But if any of you think I’m going to trust him to help me, you’re insane.” Her hands began to shake as her grip tightened on the bars. “They’re the reason I can’t see him in the first place.” Optimus was unsure what to make of that.

Amira tilted her head, giving him a questioning look. “Do you really think you stand a chance against Megatron?” The way she said it, as if she was holding back the desire to laugh, unnerved him just slightly. He made no outward show of it as he placed his servos behind his back.

"Freedom is the right of all sentient beings, Amira Sarraf. Megatron only desires to enslave and conquer both your world and our own. As long as there is hope, there will be Autobots.”

“Pretty words,” Amira hummed, “but what good are they really, hm?” She leaned in as she stared up at him. “You talk about freedom, and yet you’re aligning yourselves with the American government?” She let out a weak chuckle. “You really are an idiot.”

“I do not understand.”

“Of course you don’t,” she spat. “You haven’t been on this planet long enough to understand. Tell me, Optimus Prime - what did you promise the humans in exchange for this base and their cooperation?”

“We have sworn to do everything in our power to protect Earth and drive the Decepticons from this planet.”

“Okay. What else?”

Optimus blinked. “We will leave this planet as untouched as we are able.”

“And?”

“What else is there?”

“What else is there?” Amira parroted, chuckling as she leaned her head against the cell bars. “Do you really think that’s enough for them? You promise to keep them safe and they just roll over?” She shook her head. “They want more. Humans always do.”

“What more is there to give?”

“Your technology, for starters. Your weapons, to be more precise.” She shifted in her stance, limping slightly with her splint as she smirked up at him.

“We have made it known that we cannot allow the humans to have access to Cybertronian technology.”

“And you think they’re going to just listen to you? You can’t be that naive.” Optimus only stared at her. “Has Fowler ever asked for blueprints of your groundbridge? Or tried to ask specific questions about your computers?”

Optimus remembered how fascinated many of the humans had been when they had learned of his existence. There had been queries for examinations, requests to have Cybertronian text translated into English. Ratchet had been able to deter the humans’ interest with a simple datapad that hadn’t had any vital information on it.

But then a few months later, Agent Fowler had shown up with a new tablet that had features which seemed all too familiar.

“You can’t trust people like them. People in power always want more. Soon enough, they’ll resort to less savory methods to get what they want. And they won’t care who they have to use to do it.” Her smirk curled up slightly as she spoke. “Megatron understood that. It’s why he knew that peaceful protests would do nothing to change the situation on Cybertron.”

“You speak of a thirst for power, yet you fail to acknowledge Megatron’s.” He kept his optics locked with hers, hoping that his expression conveyed to her just how serious this situation truly was. “Have you been made aware of his use of dark energon?”

Amira said nothing, but her silence was answer enough for him.

“It is a foul, corrupt form of energon. It is said to be the blood of the ancient Unicron, the Chaos Bringer. Megatron spent countless solar cycles searching for it, and has wielded it as a weapon against any who oppose him.”

Optimus moved to kneel on one knee before her, bring his face closer to the cell. “He has defiled the corpses of the fallen and used dark energon’s properties to transform them into mindless creatures. He has attempted to wield them as an army. He has even used it on his own spark.” He leaned in a bit closer. “I beg you, Amira Sarraf, to see reason. Megatron is not one to ally with so flippantly. He is a danger to all living beings.”

Amira only stared at him for a moment, her smile long gone as she seemed to search his gaze for something. She scowled after a moment.

“You know, I think I found the most substantial difference between you two,” she said. “Megatron is willing to make the hard choices. He’s willing to risk his own life and the lives of his followers for something greater than himself. So what if he used a few bodies? They weren’t exactly doing much before. He’s willing to use every available advantage to win this war. And you, Prime, are not. You let petty things like your precious morality blind you to your true capabilities.”

She let a sliver of that smile return. "You could have so much power at your hands. And you refuse to try and use it. Perhaps because you're scared that it will destroy you. Or maybe," she hummed, "you're scared that you'll like it." She chuckled darkly. "Now there's a thought." She glared at him as she met his stare with a sneer of her own.

“You’re weak, Optimus Prime.”

For a moment, Optimus did not know how react. He knew that if it had been Ratchet or Bumblebee, for instance, they would have argued to defend themselves. But Optimus was a Prime. And he knew that trying to defend his beliefs against this human would be of no use.

She may be a human in body, but she was a Decepticon at heart. And that made her the enemy.

Optimus stood once more and sighed. “I will have Bumblebee bring you food and water. Goodbye, Amira.” He began the walk down the hallway, back towards the control room, where he would no doubt find Ratchet and Fowler filling the other in on what had just transpired.

He was almost at the corner when Amira spoke again.

“All hail Lord Megatron,” she said softly, a tone of mockery in her voice.

Optimus squared his shoulders and continued on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just in case you guys weren't sure - yeah, Amira is a Decepticon. 
> 
> Who is Lucas, you ask? Don't worry - I won't make you guys guess for too long. Either next chapter or the chapter after that, we'll shed some light on that~
> 
> -
> 
> I made a playlist for Amira that I listen to whenever I'm writing her. Here it is! - https://soundcloud.com/geminiwishes/sets/amira  
> Enjoy! ^-^


	12. Later, Haters

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, hello~ Are you ready for some BAMF Amira? Cause that's what you're getting~
> 
> -
> 
> Like what you see? Come check out my Tumblr and shoot me a message! I love hearing from you guys!
> 
> https://www.google.com/url?sa=t&source=web&rct=j&url=http://geminiwishes.tumblr.com/&ved=2ahUKEwjI2ePR0rniAhVMeawKHXCYB18QFjAAegQICBAC&usg=AOvVaw24zaMp81HoMPcDZIslJis9

Amira winced through another wave of pain as she laid back along the bench. The thin, plastic mattress did nothing to alleviate her aching back, and she wondered, not for the first time, if it was indeed designed that way to discourage inmates’ morality. Her entire body hurt and she was unsure how she’d ever been able to ignore it before.

The pain in her ankle never really went away. Right now, it was an angry, fading beat that pulsed with her heartbeat. The ache crawled up her leg and the sting in her other leg joined it. Every muscle in her back and neck was stiff and sore, sending sharp flashes of pain up her spine every time she moved to quickly. Her ribs still ached a bit, despite how the bruises encircling her torso had reached the mottled brown and yellow stage. Her head was pulsing with what she was sure was a migraine, and her right hand was tender from making contact with Jack’s face.

Her stomach was practically screaming at her, but even when Arcee had brought her more food earlier that day, she’d refused it. Her body had just gotten used to eating regularly again while aboard the Nemesis, and now she was going without food once again. No matter how many times they assured her that it wasn’t tampered with or how many times they told her to eat, she refused to touch it. Call her paranoid, but she was not in the habit of accepting food blindly from anyone she didn’t know.

Amira didn’t try to ignore the pain though. It kept her from falling for an even worse fate - boredom. She’d tried to keep track of time since being put in this cell, but it had been harder than she’d thought. If she had to guess, she would say it had been at least two days. She wondered what exactly they were planning to do with her. 

Not keep her here, surely. Perhaps they’d take her back to prison? She got the feeling she wouldn’t be going somewhere with the same minimum security as before. 

She wondered if Fowler had told her last foster family that they had found her. She scowled at the thought. Hopefully he had been too busy to do so or had just forgotten. She was a legal adult now, but they might feel the need to let them know she was still alive. The idea of either of her foster parents trying to contact her made her shudder with revulsion. 

The sound of footsteps echoed down the hallway. Amira sighed as she rolled her head to the side to see who was approaching. Agent Fowler appeared before her cell, his face set in a grim expression of exhaustion and frustration. He wore the same suit she’d seen him in before, although it was more wrinkled and scruffy than before. He must have slept in it, she realized. So either he’d been too busy to have time to go home, or this base was too far away for him to simply pop back home to shower and change. She tucked away the information for later.

“Long night?” she inquired, raising a brow as she smirked at him. Fowler only scowled as he pulled a pair of handcuffs out of his jacket pocket.

Ah.

“You’re being transferred.”

“Where to?”

“Classified,” he answered simply as he plucked his keycard out of the same pocket as before and unlocked the door. Amira watched him fiddle with the cuffs for a moment before walking up to the bench she was laying on. “Get up.” 

Seeing no point in fighting him, Amira scooted forward before pushing herself up, balancing on her good foot. She bit the inside of her cheek at the ache in her hip from constantly putting all of her weight on only one leg. Fowler grabbed her left wrist and brought it behind her back before snatching her other wrist and closing the cuffs around them. She grimaced at how warm they were, probably from being in his jacket for so long. Fowler wrapped a hand around the small chain connecting the cuffs and placed the other on her shoulder, giving her a nudge towards the open door.

The walk down the long corridors certainly didn’t help either her ankle or her hip. The splint had at least allowed her to put some weight on her ankle, but it only made the pain worse. More than once, she’d had to stop to collect herself, psyching herself up to push through the pain and keep going. Fowler had grumbled about the stops, but he still let her, the soft old fool. 

She’d almost asked why one of the Autobots hadn’t come with him to collect her, but she was still somewhat grateful that he’d come alone. She hated being picked up and manhandled by Cybertronians; she’d only tolerated Breakdown, Margaret, and sometimes Knock Out holding her. And even then, she wouldn’t let them hold her unless it was absolutely necessary. The idea of Ratchet or, God forbid, the Prime picking her up made her shudder. 

It took longer than she’d thought, but finally, they walked into the main room, where all of the Autobots were waiting. Amira noticed that the white one from before was absent, and felt just a slight amount of tension leave her then. She would be hearing his laughter in her head for a while. 

“I trust there were no issues, Agent Fowler,” Optimus Prime said as he looked down at the two of them. 

“Not at all,” Fowler said as he nudged her to start making her way towards the stairs. Amira grimaced at the challenge ahead of her. Walking up the stairs with a broken ankle was hard enough, but with her hands cuffed behind her back? She mentally prepared herself.

It seemed that Bumblebee noticed her hesitance, because as she neared the steps, a shadow fell over her before the Autobot’s hand came down before her. He beeped a few times and stretched out his hand in an offer. 

She scowled at him and pulled away, limping her way around his hand. “I can do it,” she hissed at the Autobot. She reached the steps and took a defiant step forward, keeping her expression stern as she began the slow, tedious trek up the metal stairs. She heard a low, sad buzz and rolled her eyes. Was he seriously upset that she wouldn’t let him pick her up? Pathetic.

She could hear Bulkhead saying something, probably reassuring the sensitive bot, but ignored it as she focused on not falling flat on her face.

By the time she made it to the top of the stairs, the pain in both her hip and her leg was burning. She was sure her leg was trembling slightly, but she refused to show any outward distress. She could handle this. It was still worlds more dignifying than letting an Autobot carry her. 

Fowler tugged on her cuffs to make her stop as he glanced towards the Prime. “Thank you for your help, Prime. I’ll contact you once we land.”

So they were flying. She wondered if he was going to pilot or if there was another human waiting in a hanger somewhere. 

She looked around the little platform she was standing on. There were guardrails surrounding encircling the area. There were a few large computers there were sized for humans and two rickety-looking swivel chairs. She spotted what looked to be an elevator along the wall, with a tube that seemed to only go up. There was also a couch, a coffee table, and an old television tucked away in the far corner. A few discarded snack bags and a blanket were scattered along both the table and the couch. A video game console was tucked under the television and an old-looking speaker was set down next to the TV stand.

This must be where the children spent their time here where they weren’t snooping around the base. She could feel eyes on her. Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted Arcee and Ratchet staring at her. She turned to shoot them a glare. 

Ratchet grimaced at her before turning his attention back to his console, but Arcee didn’t flinch. Her eyes flickered between Amira’s gaze and her uncovered shoulder. Amira would have enjoyed watching her gape at the tattoo if she wasn’t so tired and in so much pain. She knew she’d need to play it off. No way was she going to give them the satisfaction of knowing that she was uncomfortable.

She rolled her shoulders and her neck before glancing back at Arcee. “So, no kindergarten entourage today?” Arcee’s frown deepened as she glared at her. Amira allowed herself a small smirk.

“You’re lucky the humans have jurisdiction,” the bot hissed, her hands clenched into fists. 

Amira snorted, her shoulders shaking with laughter. “Ooh, jurisdiction~ Who knew all that it took to keep you Autobots back was a little bit of red tape?” Arcee’s plating flared with rage, and Amira silently celebrated. ‘Good,’ she thought, ‘Get mad.’

“Knock it off,” Fowler snapped at her as he shook the hand that held her cuffs, making her lose her precarious balance. She sucked in a breath as pain shot up her legs. She fought to regain her balance, wobbling as she worked through the pain.

“Is that really necessary, Agent Fowler?” Amira glanced up, catching the displeased frown on the Prime’s face. She scowled as she fought to keep herself upright. She didn’t need an Autobot to defend her, much less Optimus Prime. 

“You’ve seen what she’s like, Prime. I’m not taking chances,” Fowlere retorted before placing his other hand around one of her elbows. “If that’s all, I need to get going.” He squeezed her elbow. “This one’s got people waiting for her.” Amira rolled her eyes at Fowler’s attempts to intimidate her.

“If I may,” Prime said softly. He took a step closer and leaned down to be closer to the two humans. He met Amira’s eyes before speaking again. “Please, you must see reason. I understand that what Megatron offers may seem rather tempting. I once thought the very same thing. But when he revealed his true nature, I discovered that I had been deceived.” He leaned in even closer. “He does not wish to help you. He only cares for himself and his ever-growing need for power. Let us help you, Amira. We will keep you safe.”

Amira stared at him for a moment, at a loss. He was pleading now. He was that desperate to get her to betray Megatron and denounce the Decepticons. Fire burned white hot in her belly at the sheer audacity. 

Flashes of memory flitted through her mind - Breakdown snickering at a snide comment she’d made. Knock Out’s chest puffing out as he posed for another sketch. Margaret’s attentive focus as she went on a tangent about Earth’s different climates. The little smiley faces Soundwave sometimes left on her assignments whenever she did an exemplary job. Megatron’s strong presence that demanded attention and respect. She wanted his respect. Needed it. 

How dare this Autobot try to deprive her of that.

Amira glowered at the Prime, her hands slowly curling into fists behind her back. “Get fucked,” she snarled, her eyes molten iron as she glared up at him. Fowler tugged at her restraints again, and she grunted with pain before she could stop herself. A few grumbles and a low buzz from Bumblebee told her just how well the other Autobots took to her insulting their leader to his face. 

“We’re leaving,” Fowler snapped as he all but dragged her towards the elevator. Amira fought against her limp to keep up. The keycard was out again, before there was a soft beep and the doors slid open. Fowler lead Amira inside and kept a tight grip on her wrists as he reached for the buttons. She glanced back out, finding Arcee, Bumblebee, and Bulkhead staring at her. A thought struck her, and Amira didn’t try to hide her smile as she met Arcee’s eyes.

“Tell Jack I said bye,” she hummed. That finally got the reaction she wanted. Arcee’s eyes seemed to light up as she scowled, her plating flaring out. She growled at Amira and took a step forward, as if she was going to try and take a shot at her. A small part of Amira hoped that she did. She kept that smile on her face until the elevator doors slid shut and the lift began to ascend with a quiet rumble.

Amira glanced around the small space. The entire inside was painted an offset yellow that reminded her of rundown gas stations in the middle of nowhere. She could hear Fowler fumbling with something behind her before his grip tightened momentarily on her wrists. “Don’t move.” She was tempted to bite back a retort, but before she could, she felt hands against the sides of her head before her world was encompassed in darkness.

Amira blinked as she tried to make sense of what had happened. She could still see a little bit of light through teeny tiny holes, and she could feel rough fabric against her cheek. It took a moment before she realized what this was.

This motherfucker had put a bag over her head.

She couldn’t help herself as she straightened her back and said “Why, Agent. Shouldn’t you take me out to dinner first?” It was a stupid, immature thing to say and she knew it, but it was becoming increasingly harder to care. Fowler said nothing, and a moment later, there was another soft ding before the lift stopped and she heard the rumble of the doors opening.

She was immediately hit with a wave of heat. Fowler nudged her forward and she obediently moved, her steps smaller than usual due to both the pain in her leg and the uncertainty of the terrain around her. Bright sunlight leaked through the bag, quickly heating her face. It was very hot, almost unbearably so. It must be early afternoon for the sun to be this bright and the air to be this hot. It felt like she was outside, but she made no move to try and find out for herself. 

She limped for a minute or so before Fowler gently made her stop. There was a shadow of sorts in front of her, but she couldn’t make it out through the bag. She felt Fowler’s grip change as he reached around her. There was thunk and a creak before she was moving again. Fowler muttered for her to hold on before she was lifted up and placed down on a warm, cloth seat. She grimaced at just how concentrated the heat was now. She must be inside whatever they were using to leave the base. 

Fowler finally let go of her cuffed hands as he adjusted her in the seat. She grimaced as her splinted leg was forced at an odd angle to accommodate for the lack of space. She felt him lean in closer for just a moment before there was clicking noise. A warm strap suddenly wrapped around her front before another clicking noise - a seatbelt, she realized. The strap was pulled uncomfortably tight, forcing her to remain pinned against the seat. 

Fowler’s presence disappeared after that. The thud of the door closing sounded from her left. A moment later, the sound of another door opening alerted her from in front of her. She heard the seat creak as Fowler settled in before he began to click a few things, presumably buttons and switches. 

So he was a pilot too. The rumble of an engine starting filled the cabin and the whine of a rotor made it harder and harder to hear anything. 

Using her good foot, Amira pressed herself further back against the seat as she braced herself. Despite living on an alien warship for the last two and a half months surrounded by giant robots who could turn into jets, she’d never actually ridden in a flying machine before. The Nemesis never really felt like it was moving, and the only Cybertronians she’d ever ridden inside had been Knock Out and Margaret, who both turned into cars. 

There was a lurch, and Amira bit back a groan as she felt the helicopter - because that had to be what this was - lift into the air. She was suddenly grateful for the tight seat belt across her middle. 

She wanted to simply curl in on herself and try to live through this until she was back on the ground. But the growing soldier inside of her demanded her attention. This was not the time to cower away. This was the time for action. 

Fowler was occupied with flying the helicopter, and they were alone. 

She struggled against the seatbelt, arching her back until her hands were no longer pinned against the hot clothed back of the seat. Taking a deep breath, she grabbed her thumb and began to pull, feeling her way through the process. It had been a while now since she’d been in handcuffs, but she still knew how to slip at least one hand out. It would have been easier if she’d had a pick of some kind, but there had been none that she could see or time to make a grab for one.

She hissed as she felt her thumb dislocate. It didn’t hurt as much anymore, but it still wasn’t very comfortable. She slowly wriggled her hand around the constricting grip of metal. Her hand was getting sweaty as well, allowing her to finally slip her right hand out of the cuffs after struggling for a few minutes. She let out a sigh before quickly shoving her thumb back into the socket. She swallowed a groan as she closed her eyes, breathing through the pain.

As she opened and closed her now freed hand to work through the ache, she began devising a plan. It would be risky - extremely so. There was a high probability that she could die, but it was either that, or a military prison. 

She decided to take her chances with her plan. Slowly, she ran her hand along the strap of the seat belt until she touched the buckle. It was still hot to the touch, but she shoved her tongue in between her teeth to bite back a grunt as she forced herself to grip the mechanism and ever so slowly release it. The normally loud click was a quiet clunk and the pressure across her front eased immediately. She gripped the strap with her other hand to keep it from moving away too quickly. The last thing she wanted was the sound of the seat belt of all things alerting Fowler.

Slower than she would have liked, Amira allowed the seat belt to silently retract. She counted to thirty, waiting for any kind of sound indicating that Fowler had noticed she was free, but heard nothing. She reached up, pulling the bag off her head. She squinted her eyes as light flooded her vision. She ran a hand through her hair, brushing away the strands that clung to her sweat-soaked skin. After a moment, her eyes adjusted to the light, and she took in her surroundings.

The helicopter’s cabin was simple black cloth, with a few boxes welded to the ceiling and a pair of earphones hanging on a nearby hook. She glanced outside, finding large, red rocks and dense shrubbery. It was a desert of some kind. Given the children and Fowler’s accents, she assumed it was somewhere is North America. 

She’d have to work fast.

Fowler was in the seat right in front of her, his eyes glued to the instruments surrounding him as he spoke into a headset. Amira wriggled around with her bad leg before slowly leaning forward. She looked around the floor of the cabin, searching for anything she could use as a weapon. There were no discarded tools or devices of any kind. She looked around the passenger’s seat before checking around Fowler’s seat.

It took a moment before her eyes caught the lump on his right hip. She’d seen something similar enough times now to know what it was. How had she not noticed he was armed before? She’d have to go for the gun - both to have a weapon and to keep him from using it on her. Amira shoved her tongue against the inside of her cheek as she slowly slid further out of her seat and carefully reached out. She had to be fast, she told herself. She sucked in a breath, mentally preparing herself for what she had to do next. 

She shot forward, slamming herself against the back of Fowler’s seat. Her left arm wrapped around the seat, pinning Fowler to the seat by his neck with a shocked choke. Her right hand reached down, shoving aside his jacket and enclosing around the handle of the gun. Her fingernails scraped against the buckle of the holster, unclipping it as she pulled up and freed the firearm. 

One of Fowler’s hands moved from the controls to make a grab for the gun, but she was faster. Her sweat-slicked fingers wrapped around the handle and she flicked off the safety with her thumb. She leaned back, forcing her arm to press harder along his neck. The helicopter dipped for a moment as Fowler scrambled to gain control. He let out a choked gasp as his head was forced back, and she brought the gun up pressing the barrel against the back of his head.

“Say anything and I’ll shoot,” she hissed, pressing the barrel harder against his head just in case he thought she was bluffing. She saw his hands tighten around the controls, but he obeyed, staying silent. She kept the gun pressed to his head as she quickly yanked the headset off his head and threw it down near his feet. Her arm was back against his throat before he could react. 

She took a moment to breathe in a vain attempt to calm her heart as it hammered in her chest. She kept a tight grip on the gun, her index finger resting near the trigger. She’d seen plenty of guns, but she’d never actually _held_ one. It was heavier than she thought it would be, and she wasn’t sure if she liked it or not.

A thought for later, though.

Right now, she needed to work.

“Now, you’re going to land us. And if I see you try to call for help, I won’t bother giving you a warning.”

“You won’t do it. You’ll kill us both if you shoot me,” Fowler snarled. She leaned in closer, keeping her grip on both his neck and the gun.

“Is that really a risk you’re willing to take, Agent Fowler?” She dug the barrel against his scalp until she heard him grunt with pain. “You really should have read my file.”

For a moment, she thought that he wouldn’t comply. He made no move to land the helicopter and said nothing. She was beginning to take note of where his hands were so that she could take over the controls after killing him, when suddenly she felt the aircraft dip down. Fowler was silent as he brought the helicopter down, his hands trembling slightly from either anger or fear - she couldn’t tell.

A few minutes later, they landed near a cactus patch in the open desert. She let out a breath as they finally touched down, happy to once again be on the ground. She relinquished her hold on his neck but kept the gun pressed firmly against his head. 

“Don’t move,” she snapped. She could have laughed at the irony of the situation - he’d said the exact same thing to her back in the elevator. Her hand ran down his chest before reaching into his jacket. She quickly found the inner left breast pocket and pulled out the keycard. She also brought out an old flip phone. She shoved both into her back pocket before her hand was back against his neck. “You wearing a wire?” She doubted it, given how classified his position was, but she was taking no chances. She felt around for one as she waited for an answer.

“Why in the Sam Hill would I be wearing a wire?”

“Just curious,” she hummed. She leaned back and renewed her grip on the gun before pulling it away from his head. She saw some of the tension in his shoulders fall away at the loss of pressure. She smiled then. Without another word, she brought the butt of the handle down on the back of his head.

Fowler let out a pained grunt before slouching forward. She moved fast, reaching around the seat to hit him again. She brought the gun up again, ready to bring it down a third time if he was still conscious. A minute or so passed, and Fowler made no move to try and sit back up. She let out a sigh before allowing herself to relax. Her hands were trembling from the rush of adrenaline, and she could feel her breath starting to come in short gasps. 

Stars, it was hot in here.

She reached into Fowler’s jacket, checking each pocket. She found a wallet, a pager, an ID badge with a strip on the back, and a small silver key. She quickly used it on the cuffs, elated to hear the click of the lock before the cuff fell away. She brought Fowler’s own hands back behind his seat before cuffing his wrists together.

Satisfied that Fowler wouldn’t be able to retaliate once he woke up, Amira leaned back in her seat and opened up the flip phone. She had no idea if this was a burner or his personal one - he seemed the type to unironically own a flip phone. She wondered if he had a belt clip for the damn thing too.

She wasn’t surprised to find that there was no signal, but it made no difference to her. 

During her coding lessons, Soundwave had given her a few exercises involving survival situations. One of those lessons had involved alternative ways to contact the Nemesis when she had no access to an approved device, like her phone. 

With practiced ease, Amira dialed the code into her phone and hit call. There was a ringing on the other end before a dial-up tone. She punched in the seven digit code Soundwave had made her memorize and hit the pound key. The dial-up tone stopped, filling the cabin with silence. Amira swallowed as she stared at the phone, watching the counter.

There was a buzz of static before a familiar chirping noise. All of the tension in Amira’s shoulder left her as she recognized the sound - a recording of Laserbeak’s crooning that Soundwave used whenever she called him on her own phone.

“Hey, Soundwave. Any chance you could get a lock on this signal? I don’t know how close an eye the Autobots were keeping on me, and I don’t really want to wait around to find out if anyone else is looking for me.” She tried her best to sound casual, even as she felt tears threatening to burn in her eyes. There was silence on the other end before another quiet chirp. “I’m in a helicopter in a desert of some kind.” She leaned forward to look out the window. “I don’t see any roads nearby, but there is a pretty big cactus patch a few yards away?”

“Aid on the way.” She didn’t recognize the voice, but she could tell it was another one of Soundwave’s recordings. She swallowed the growing lump in her throat and nodded, despite Soundwave’s inability to see it. “Damage report?” The rasp of Megatron’s voice made her tense for a brief moment before answering.

“I didn’t tell them anything. Not that they made much of an effort. Autobot interrogation methods really are pathetic,” she said with a watery laugh. She fiddled with the handle of the gun, unable to put it down as she spoke. "I knocked Fowler out cold. He's cuffed to his seat, so I'm not worried about him doing anything."

“Damage report?” 

It took her a moment to realize that he hadn’t been asking about information. He was asking if she was alright. “I broke my ankle. Might have done some damage to my hand too. I haven’t eaten or drank anything since they grabbed me. I’m uh, I’m not great. But it’s nothing a little sleep and some pain meds won’t fix.” There was another buzz of static before another chirp. It seemed that answer was good enough for him. 

A few minutes passed before the whine of jet engines grew closer and closer, and Amira felt her eyes widen as she scooted closer to the window, looking out for a glance at whoever had appeared. 

“I hear jets. Is that you?” she said into the phone as she kept an eye on the sky.

“Aid: arrived,” Soundwave confirmed. Sure enough, a moment later, Amira heard the tell-tale sound of transformation before a thunderous thud of metal hitting earth. She shoved the wallet, key card, and ID badge into her back pockets as she both heard and felt the footsteps drawing closer. Her hands scrambled for the door handle - made more difficult with the phone and firearm she held - before she shoved it open. She almost fell out, but managed to catch herself 

She slowly slid out of the helicopter, struggling with her splint, but managed to finally make it to the ground safely. The thud of giant footsteps moved closer before a giant shadow fell over her. Amira limped forward before looking up behind her. 

A Vehicon was staring at her, the bright red light of their visor seeming to light up as she met their gaze. 

She offered a small salute before bringing the phone back up to her ear. “They’re here. I’ll give you a full report once I’m back,” she promised, hanging up once she heard another chirp of confirmation.

“They weren’t sure you’d make it out,” the Vehicon said as two more appeared. Amira glanced up at them with curiosity.

“You were expecting company?”

“Soundwave said to be prepared,” the Vehicon answered before stepping over the helicopter. Amira glanced inside again, seeing Fowler still passed out inside. The Vehicon kneeled down towards her and held out their hand. “Come on. We’re not waiting around for the Autobots,” they said as they nodded towards their hand. Amira nodded as she limped forward, almost falling into the Vehicon’s hand as she pulled herself up.

She shut her eyes as she was lifted up and the Vehicon turned on their heel. “Let’s move,” they said to the other two soldiers, who were staring at Amira’s prone form. They nodded before leaping into the air and transforming. Amira barely had time to admire the sight before the Vehicon’s hand enclosed around her middle and she heard the familiar whir and click of transformation. At some point, she lost her hold on the gun. 

Deep purple and silver metal folded and compressed around her, shifting her around until she was sitting back into a thick metal chair. The jet shot forward, meeting with the other two before they fell into formation. Amira gasped as they flew, gripping the sides of her seat. For a moment, she missed the feeling of the helicopter. It had been much slower, allowing her to get used to the feeling. But riding around in a sentient jet? She wasn’t sure she would ever get her heart out of her damn throat.

Something else. Focus on something else.

She swallowed before slowly forcing her hands to relinquish her death grip on the seat. She took a few deep breaths before looking at the console, or rather where a console would be if this was a human-made jet. 

“So, how bad was the damage once the Autobots left?” _‘How many soldiers did they kill?’_ She wanted to ask, but decided against it.

“Minimal damage to the Nemesis’ internal structure. Repairs are expected to be completed within the next few mega-cycles.”

“Any chance you can translate that into Earth time?”

“No.”

Well, alright then. She tried something else. “What happens now? Who do I see first?”

“We were ordered to bring you to Soundwave. After that is as good as anyone’s guess.” She had the feeling she wasn’t going to get much casual conversation out of this one. She sighed and leaned back in her seat. 

The bright glow of a groundbridge soon appeared, and Amira braced herself as they passed through it. They flew for another moment before the world tilted. She gasped as she both felt and heard the Vehicon transform around her once again before she was back in their hand. She opened her eyes and was greeted with the familiar darkness of the Nemesis. 

She could have cried in that moment, but she kept her composure as she slowly sat up and gripped one of the Vehicon’s thumbs. They were walking through a familiar corridor, turning a corner before she spotted the doorway that lead into the main bridge. She swallowed again as she adjusted herself and straightened her back as much as her position would allow her.

The bridge was alive with activity as the Vehicon walked forward. Megatron was speaking to Starscream in low tones, an annoyed expression on his face as he listened to whatever it was Starscream was saying. The Vehicon veered off to the right before coming to a stop a few steps behind Soundwave.

The communications officer stood poised over his console, staring at the screen as his fingers flew across the keys, working diligently on his current assignment. 

“Soundwave, sir,” the Vehicon said, calling the other’s attention. “We have retrieved the human as instructed.” Soundwave paused in his work before slowly turning to face them. His held tilted down as he assessed Amira from her perch in the soldier’s hand. He stepped forward and deployed his tentacles, allowing them to slither closer towards her. Amira felt her grip tighten around the Vehicon’s thumb, but as one of the tentacles brushed her side, Soundwave offered another one of his soft chirps.

The sound eased her nerves enough for her to allow the tentacles to enclose around her and gently lift her out of the Vehicon’s hand. She placed a hand against one of the tentacles, noting the purple rings of light that ran up the length of the strange appendages. She was placed down on the console Soundwave had been working out as Soundwave looked back at the Vehicon. 

“Dismissed,” he buzzed, using a recording of Megatron to give the order. The Vehicon saluted him before turning and leaving the bridge with a bit of haste. Amira watched them go before looking back up at Soundwave. She wanted to sit down, but she fought against the fatigue as she met the blank stare of Soundwave’s visor. She wasn’t sure what to say, running her tongue along the roof of her mouth as if to dislodge the words.

Soundwave’s visor flickered to life before a single word appeared. ‘Report’

“Right,” she said. She had said she would give a full report once she was back. “Where do I start?”

‘Point of capture’ slid lazily across Soundwave’s visor.

“Okay. Arcee grabbed me first and brought me to a planned meeting place. The rest of the Autobots met us there and they took the groundbridge back to their base. I was passed around before then, and once I was in their base, I managed to get free. Expect that I was up pretty high and landed on my ankle.” She motioned to the splint still encasing her leg. “There was some confusion - they still thought I was a prisoner and thought I needed rescuing. I was going to stick to that, but they ended up putting me in a cell.

“I was in there for a while, I suppose. I’m not sure how long exactly. I think you’re familiar with Agent Fowler? He showed up with the medic Ratchet and Optimus Prime. He gave me the splint and started to question me.” A question mark appeared on Soundwave’s visor then. “I didn’t tell them anything. He asked about Megatron’s current plans, both for the war and for the Earth. The moron really thought I had a high enough rank to know something like that.” She couldn’t help rolling her eyes again as she remembered just utterly ridiculous his reasoning had been. 

Soundwave’s visor blinked, signalling for her to continue. “He had my file, and he tried to get me to agree to trade secrets for protection. When he realized that I wasn’t going to cooperate, Optimus Prime tried to ‘make me see reason’”. She held up her fingers in quotations at that. “Basically just told me Megatron is evil and I was making a mistake by following him and blah blah blah. He left after a while and Agent Fowler came back to tell me that I was being moved. I’m not sure where we were going to go, but he decided to put a bag over my head to keep me from learning where I was.

“He put me in a helicopter and we flew for a bit before I managed to slip out of my handcuffs. I snagged his gun and made him land before knocking him out. Then I grabbed his phone and called you.”

Soundwave stared at her for a moment before the question mark flashed again. He was asking if there was anything else, she realized. And she supposed she should get on with it. She pulled out the flip phone, the ID badge, and the keycard and held them out to him. 

“I didn’t get a chance to really look through his phone, but he used the keycard on a lot of different things. I don’t know if it only works for the Autobot base, or if it’s also good at other military bases.” She pulled out his wallet and looked through it, pulling out the driver’s license and offering it up as well. “This has his name and address on it. I’m not sure what else you can pull off that.” She ran her fingers through the wallet. There were a few bills, a credit card, a fro-yo gift card, and a folded slip of paper. She plucked it out and opened it.

It was a photo. A younger Agent Fowler was sitting on the tread of a military tank, wearing military camo and grinning at the camera under a standard issue helmet. Seven other men were grouped together in the camera, also in uniform and smiling.

So he _had_ been an active soldier once. She folded it once more and put it back in the wallet before tucking it back into her pocket. Soundwave had taken all of the offered items already, seeming to focus mostly on the cellphone. She stared at the device as tiny wires sprouted from one of Soundwave’s tentacles and plugged into it.

“Could I possibly have that when you’re done?” she asked quietly. Soundwave tilted his head slightly and the question mark appeared again. “If you’ll allow it, I’d like to see what I can find. I know you’re the communications specialist, but somethings may not seem important if you don’t understand the context to them. I might be able to pick up on something that could help.”

Soundwave’s visor stayed blank for a moment before the tentacle came closer, offering the cellphone out to her. She accepted it eagerly and placed it in her other pocket.

Now there was one last thing she needed to do.

“I have information about the Autobot base,” she said, her tone stronger as she met Soundwave’s gaze. Soundwave straightened as his tentacles slid around her once again. She held on as Soundwave carried her away from the console and towards the imposing figure of Megatron.

Starscream noticed their presence first, his mouth curling into a sneer as he glared at her. Glad to know that hadn’t changed, she thought as Megatron turned to see what Starscream was looking at. Megatron’s eyes met Soundwave first before falling to Amira. She felt her body bristle as his eyes narrowed.

“So, you’ve returned,” he said, his tone carefully neutral, although his expression said enough on its own. 

“I have information about the Autobot base,” Soundwave played back. She grimaced at the way her voice sounded through his recording. She really hated when he did that. Megatron’s violet glare quickly dashed away her disdain for Soundwave, forcing her to focus on the warlord.

“Well?” 

Her throat suddenly felt bone dry, and she swallowed forcefully before speaking again.

“While I was held prisoner, I paid attention to the base itself. It’s some sort of military bunker and I’m almost positive it’s underground. The walls were solid rock and they have an elevator that only goes up. There weren’t any other officers there aside from Agent Fowler, so it’s probably abandoned. There’s no way that any human government would just give up a bunker that size or not notice that it’s occupied, so they’ve definitely allied themselves with the Autobots. I’m certain it’s the United States.” She waited for any kind of reaction, but Megatron only stared at her, so she went on.

“The human children they’re friends with have a presence there. They have a space set aside for them, which tells me that they’re there a lot. And given what you’ve told me about their lack of access to energon deposits, I doubt they’re wasting energon to constantly open groundbridges for them. So wherever their base is, it’s close enough for those kids to come by on a regular basis.

“When I was being transferred, I had a bag placed over my head before I went outside. But I was able to get it off after about half an hour or so. I was in a desert of some kind, and there are only a few places in the United States that have deserts. I think Soundwave can give you the location of my phone call.” She glanced up at Soundwave before looking back at Megatron. “It’s not a precise location, but it definitely narrows down the search.”

Megatron said nothing, simply staring at her. Amira felt her nerve slowly ebbing away, replaced with anxiety that grew in the pit of her stomach. Had he already known all of this? She knew that the location of the Autobot base was unknown, but she had no idea just how much information they had about it. She broke eye contact with the warlord, her eyes falling to Starscream, who stood only a few feet away, his eyes wide and his mouth hanging open. When he noticed her staring, he quickly closed his mouth and looked away, seeming to focus on anything other than her and Megatron.

She was about to start apologizing when she heard a low rumble come from Megatron. She quickly looked back at him and felt her chest tighten as she beheld the grin slowly spreading across his face. It was wicked-looking, with sharp, glistening teeth and cold calculation. 

She liked it immensely.

Megatron peered over her head at Soundwave as he all but purred, “It seems that your efforts have already begun to reap rewards, Soundwave.” He looked back at her. “Perhaps I have misjudged you, human. You have proven that you have taken well to your training. I expect a full, written report on your observations once you’ve had your injuries seen to.”

Perhaps it was the relief she felt from once again being aboard the warship, or maybe the elation of knowing that she’d brought back valuable intel. But in that moment, she felt bold.

“Amira.” Megatron rose a brow at her, his smile falling slightly. “My name is Amira, Lord Megatron,” she elaborated as she bowed her head respectfully. He hummed softly before letting out a low chuckle.

“Then I expect you to earn the right to be addressed by your name, Amira.”

 

* * *

 

Amira was still biting her lip to force back a smile as she was carried into the medbay. Megatron had ordered another Vehicon to take her to get patched up while Soundwave set to work with the information that she had provided. The image of Megatron’s smile was burned into her memory, along with the astonished look on Starscream’s face. 

She decided that she was going to do all that she could to make the warlord smile like that again.

As she was brought into the medbay, a familiar hulking blue form looked up from a workstation, a drill bit in between his fingers. Amira felt her heart swell up as her eyes met molten gold. Breakdown simply stared at her for a moment, frozen to the spot.

He crossed the space in the next moment, holding out his hands. “Give her to me,” he said to the Vehicon holding her. They obeyed wordlessly, carefully transferring her into his own hands. “Go get yourself a cube before you head back,” he ordered as he gestured towards the exit with his head. 

The Vehicon nodded in understanding and left the medbay quickly, leaving Amira and Breakdown alone.

Breakdown said nothing as he brought her up higher, studying her closely with a steely expression. She squirmed slightly under the close scrutiny. She wanted to say something, but she wasn’t sure what she could say in that moment.

“So,” Breakdown finally said after finishing his assessment and walking over to the main medical berth, “You made it back, huh?”

“Everyone is acting so surprised,” she mumbled as he set her down on the cold metal slab. He stared down at her, his face still stern. 

“You look like slag,” he said simply before picking up a scanner and typing something in. 

“Feel like it,” she admitted. She watched him fiddle with the scanner for a moment before asking “Is that going to do anything?”

“After we realized you were actually going to stay, the doc started gathering some data ‘bout your biology. Nothin’ too serious, but enough so that he could fix up easy stuff. I’m just gonna see how bad it is before I comm him.”

“What, is my word not good enough?” Breakdown’s answering glare could have melted steel.

“Watch it with the sass. Doc’s pissed enough already.”

“About what?” Breakdown didn’t answer, instead focusing on the scanner for another moment before bringing it down to do a quick reading. Amira squinted her eyes as the bright red light passed over her eyes. He pressed another button on the scanner before bringing it back up to his face.

“Fractured talus and fibula. Deficiency of vital calories and fluids. Low blood sugar. Bruises both internal and external.”

“Is that all?” she deadpanned, frowning up at the medical assistant.

“This says you got bruising around your lungs, but no bleeding, thank Primus. I wouldn’t hear the end of it from the doc if he had to open you up.”

“Breakdown!”

“What? M’tryin’ to work,” he snapped as he finally pulled his eyes away from the scanner.

“Are you going to say hi?”

“Why would I do that?”

“Why would- Dude! I just escaped from the Autobots! You haven’t seen me in days!”

“You’ve only been gone for a little less than a mega-cycle.”

“You know I don’t know how long that is!”

“And who’s fault is that?”

Amira was about to snap back when the main door slid open again and Knock Out strode inside, two full energon cubes in his hands. “I know you said you’re fine with low-grade, but I really think you could use some mid-grade at the very...least…” His sentence trailed off as he took in the scene before him. Breakdown straightened and walked over to the medic, plucking the cube out of one of his hands and replacing it with the scanner.

Amira shifted in place before slowly bringing up her hand in a small wave. In the next moment, Knock Out’s surprise melted away, replaced with a cold, neutral expression that didn’t seem to bode well for her. His fingers enclosed around the handle of the scanner as he brought the other cube up to his mouth, downing the fluorescent blue energon inside in a few gulps.

He then strode over towards the berth, his shoulders rolled back and his back straight. He practically slammed the empty cube down on the nearby tool cart, and she wondered how he hadn’t shatter the damn thing. Knock Out punched something into the screen before bringing the scanner down again. 

Amira was quiet as he did so, noting the look of concentration on his face. As much as she wanted to tease, to purr at him and ask him if he missed her, she was starting to get desperate for some medical care. Even if Knock Out was a giant alien robot, he was still better than a clumsy old man who had to read the instructions in a first aid kit.

Breakdown reappeared, a crate of sorts in his hands that looked to be the size of a king size mattress. He wordlessly placed the crate down on the cart, next to the empty energon cube, which he plucked up and brought over to the disposal chute.

Knock Out remained quiet as he popped off the crate’s lid and began running his fingers along whatever was inside. Amira’s frown deepened at the silence. She wasn’t used to this kind of quiet from Knock Out. Usually, he was reading medical charts outloud and humming over his finish. Hell, even when he wasn’t talking, he usually made some kind of noise - like tapping his fingers against the edge of his datapad or constantly shifting his plating.

“Knock Out?”

Knock Out pulled out a few smaller boxes and set them aside before turning back to her. “Lean back,” he ordered as he gently lifted her splinted leg. 

“Ah! Careful!” she hissed as she sat back. Knock Out glared at her before he began to gently pluck apart the splint.

“I’m a medic. Don’t tell me to be careful,” he snapped. She frowned as he set to work, setting the broken pieces of her splint off to the side. “How did this happen?”

She was surprised by the question, but decided that now probably wasn’t the time to push it. “One of the Autobots was holding me and I managed to slip out of their hands. I was pretty high up though, and I landed on my ankle.”

“Did they give you anything for the pain, or is this all they did?” he questioned as he gestured at the remnants of her splint.

“Agent Fowler wanted me to take some pain meds, but I wasn’t about to take any drugs he gave me.”

Knock Out hummed as he finished pulling the splint apart. She watched as he set the pieces aside and reached for strange sheet of what looked to be netted plastic. It was dark blue and thick looking. He brought it down towards her leg and began to bend and shape the plastic. 

“What exactly is that?” she asked as he began to cut along the plastic with a sharp finger.

“Molding material,” he said simply, “Now stop talking.”

“Okay, what crawled up your tailpipe and died?” The blue plastic bent at a sharp angle in between Knock Out’s fingers. Amira forewent her usual nerves and met the medic’s glare. 

“Are you really asking me that?”

“Yes! Usually I have to do something first before you get all pissy like this, but I didn’t do anything!”

“Oh, you most certainly did.”

“What, then?” She held up her hands and looked around in mock confusion, “What could I have possibly done?!”

Knock Out slammed a hand down next to her body, causing the berth to rattle underneath her. He glowered at her and he leaned down. “I told you to hide. I gave you a direct order and you ignored it. And not just ignored - you flatout disobeyed. And then what happened? You go and get captured by fragging Autobots!”

Amira could feel her face flush slightly as her shoulders tensed with anger. “How was I supposed to know they would try and take me? I was just trying to help!”

“Whether or not you knew about the danger or not doesn’t matter. You disobeyed a direct order from a superior officer. Other Decepticons have been offlined for less.”

“Your orders were bullshit! And I told you that I don’t answer to you!”

"Oh, but you do. I am the Decepticon’s Chief Medical Officer - meaning it is my responsibility to see to the well-being and functionality of the crew. And that includes you. If the situation calls for it, even Megatron would have to answer to me.” Knock Out drew closer, his eyes seeming to glow brighter with ruby red fire. “Like it or not, I am your superior. When I give you an order, you fragging follow it.”

White hot fire grew under Amira’s skin as she stared into those scarlet eyes. A swirling cocktail of anger and shame bubbled in her gut, and she took a moment to be grateful that she couldn’t visibly blush.

As much as she wanted to argue, she knew that Knock Out was right. He was higher-ranking than she was. She may work under Soundwave, but that didn’t mean she didn’t have to answer to any other officers. Hell, she was lucky that Starscream was still too disgusted by her to think to try and order her around.

She wasn’t sorry that she’d ignored his orders. It had seemed to be the right choice at the time, and if the Autobots hadn’t gunned for her, she was sure that she could have helped out in some small way. 

But that didn’t matter right now. The ‘what ifs’ did nothing to alleviate the damage done. She had still messed up. It was best to fess up and move on.

Amira hung her head, boring holes into her jeans with her eyes as she shifted her jaw. “...You’re right,” she said quietly. She heard the faint creak as Knock Out shifted back slightly, but didn’t look up at him. “I should have listened to you. You were just trying to get me out of harm’s way. I’m… sorry.”

Knock Out was silent as he stared down at her. When she finally managed to glance up at him, she saw that his scowl had lessened just a fraction. “Don’t do this again,” he said as he picked up the sheet of moldable plastic and went back to work.

She couldn’t resist. “Do what? Disobey your orders or get captured by Autobots? Or get hurt?” Knock Out glared again, but she saw the faint hint of amusement behind it.

It turned out that the strange material Knock Out was bending was to make a netted, breathable cast for her leg. It had taken some maneuvering on both their parts, but they finally managed to secure it snugly around her leg. After some argument, Knock Out had managed to lift Amira’s shirt to check on her ribs. He’d said nothing as he beheld the fading bruises that curled around her torso. He’d simply given her the small first aid kit she’d bought and told her to tend to the superficial cuts and scrapes along her hands.

She got the feeling that he just didn’t want to look at her anymore.

As she dabbed an alcohol-soaked pad to the scrapes on her knuckles, an idea occurred. She looked up at Knock Out and smirked slightly. “If it helps, I wasn’t the only one who got hurt.”

Knock Out hummed as he repacked the crate. “Oh?”

She had the feeling he was only entertaining her at this point, but she wasn’t going to let that stop her. “Yup. The taller boy, Jack? Punched him square in the face. Apparently I broke his nose.” She set the now-dirty alcoholic pad down and picked up a roll of gauze. “I also knocked Fowler out with his own gun and left him cuffed in his helicopter in the middle of nowhere.”

Knock Out glanced over at her then. “And why didn’t you try to bring him back with you?”

“Eh. I doubted he would have cooperated. And I told Soundwave he was there. He probably thought it was pointless too since he didn’t order any of the Vehicons to pick him up.” 

Knock Out let out a low groan. “Well, as thrilling as this conversation is, I need to get some paperwork done. And my chassis are long overdue for a good buffing.” He waved over to his partner. “Think you can put the fleshie in her room before we get started?”

“Yeah, sure,” Breakdown agreed, putting away his tools and making his way over to the berth Amira lay precariously upon. He brought both hands down and helped Amira move. She noted how his touch seemed much more gentle than usual.

Breakdown was careful as he collected her and carried her towards the storage closet. The door opened with a swish and he stepped inside, bringing his hands up to deposit her on the walkway that connected the door to her quarters. Amira stepped out with her good foot and gripped the railing of the walkway to keep her balance.

“He was worried, you know.” 

Amira looked up at Breakdown, because even though she was on a raised platform, he still towered over her. “What?”

“I know he don’t act like it, but he was,” Breakdown repeated, shrugging slightly. “Was pissier than usual and kept ranting about how stupid you were for not listenin’ to him.” 

“Gee, really feeling the love,” she deadpanned.

“Come on. You know doc. He’s no good at mushy stuff. He does better with snarky comments and cuttin’ bots up.”

“And is that what you like about him?”

Breakdown grinned. “Among other things.”

Wow, she _really_ didn’t need that picture in her head. She sighed and forced herself to straighten against the railing. “Welp. I’m gonna take a shower and pass out. Try not to be too loud, yeah?” She made to take a step towards the door to her room when a shadow fell over her, followed by pressure against her head. She stopped, blinking in surprise as she realized that the thing touching her was one of Breakdown’s fingers. And he was… petting her? She glanced back up at him, her expression silently questioning what he was doing.

The usual irritation and brooding was absent from Breakdown’s face, replaced with a relaxed, almost soft expression. He gently ran his finger along the crown of her head, tangling it up in her hair before gently brushing it again. Amira wasn’t sure what to do. She was used to being touched by the other Decepticons, but it had always been purposeful, business-like, and sometimes violent. No one had ever been so openly… affectionate. Especially not Breakdown.

She was about to ask what he was doing when he spoke again.

“Good to have you back, bitlet,” he said quietly, a low rumble in his voice that she hadn’t ever heard before. She blinked owlishly up at him as he pulled his finger away. He nodded towards the box that made up her room. “Hurry up and get some recharge. Soundwave’ll probably want you back to work next shift.”

With that, Breakdown turned and left without another word. 

Amira watched him go before running a hand through her hair. It was tangled beyond reason, and she could feel the grease and grit in between her fingers. Grimacing, she hobbled forward into her room, in desperate need of a shower.

 

* * *

 

Amira sighed as she sat on her bed and leaned back against the adjacent wall. It had taken longer than she’d originally thought to shower, mostly due to all the maneuvering it took to get her pants off and get into the little cubicle with her cast. She was grateful that the material was waterproof, saving her the agony of having to tie a trash bag around her leg. 

She wouldn’t deny that she had let out a small moan as the hot water hit her bare back and ran down her body. She had closed her eyes and simply enjoyed the blissful feeling of hot water and steam against her bare skin for a few minutes before getting to work actually cleaning herself. She’d watched as the water around her feet swirled with grey and pink as the dirt and blood was washed away, leaving her clean and raw.

She’d popped open a can of spaghetti-os and poured them into a bowl before nuking them in a little microwave that had not been there when she’d last been here. She suspected Soundwave, but wasn’t going to pry. She’d stuffed her face with a bag of potato chips as she waited for the bowl to heat up. Instant relief filled her, and she sighed as the ache of hunger ebbed away. 

And now, here she was, sitting on a bed that felt like the finest down after two days on a cold, hard bench. She knew she should sleep - no doubt Breakdown had been right that Soundwave would expect her to be ready to get back to work at the usual time tomorrow. 

But even as exhaustion crept in, Amira just couldn’t sleep. Her mind was too full - full of intrusive thoughts and unanswered questions. There was a lot to unpack about what had happened in the last forty-eight hours. Where to even start?

Amira decided to start with what she had on hand. She glanced down at the flip phone in her hand, having fished it out of her pocket before showering. Soundwave had already gleaned all information he deemed important, but she still wanted to look through it herself. She flipped it open and stared at the default background.

He had mentioned Lucas.

Could he have information about him on here?

Maybe a location? 

Or a phone number?

Amira could feel a lump forming in her throat as she began to scroll through the phone’s contents. Her heart dropped as she finished a few minutes later.

Nothing.

Not a single message, note, or email.

She should have known he was lying. But still… she had hoped that perhaps she had at last found the answer. Her eyes burned with tears that began to distort her vision. She wanted to let them fall, to mourn the time she’d lost with him because of people like Agent Fowler.

The burning slowly morphed from grief into rage. She blinked harshly, fighting away the incessant sting of tears and wiping away the ones that ran down her cheeks. She began to look more closely through the phone, making a note of everything that she would have to check later.

As she scrolled through the contacts page again, a name made her pause.

Jack Darby.

It was the only Jack in Fowler’s contacts. She took a deep breath to keep herself from getting too excited. She selected the name and clicked the option marked INFO.

Another page pulled up, this one with the beginnings of a text conversation, a record of the last call made to the contact, and an entry into an address e-book.

Surely it couldn’t be that easy.

Could it?

She selected the address book, and read the entry. 

Jack Darby - 400 E Magnolia Dr, Jasper, NV, 47546

A small, wicked smile began to curl at the corners of Amira’s lips. So, Fowler wanted to threaten her loved ones? Fine. She could play that game.

She grabbed a notebook and flipped it open to begin writing down information as she began to search for two more names in the contacts list.

This was going to be fun.

 -

[(psst - I did a thing!)](https://geminiwishes.tumblr.com/post/186176040610/ive-been-doodling-amira-right-for-a-while-now)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So recently, I took an alignment test for Amira and got Lawful Evil. Which tbh, sounds right. I'm having the time of my life rn with her. Y'all aren't even ready for what I have planned for her~ (Imighthavedrawnsomestuffbutshhhhhhh)
> 
> You guys, I cannot being to tell you just how overwhelmed I am by all the love and positivity this story has received. Your comments have helped me so much! Any time I'm having trouble getting motivated, I just pull up my inbox and reread comments. You guys are so amazingly sweet and I can't even with you adorable beans~ Thank you so much for all the love and support!
> 
> I made a playlist for Amira that I listen to whenever I'm writing her. Here it is! - https://soundcloud.com/geminiwishes/sets/amira  
> Enjoy! ^-^


	13. The Swing of Things

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again ;3c
> 
> -
> 
> Like what you see? Come check out my Tumblr and shoot me a message! I love hearing from you guys!
> 
> https://www.google.com/url?sa=t&source=web&rct=j&url=http://geminiwishes.tumblr.com/&ved=2ahUKEwjI2ePR0rniAhVMeawKHXCYB18QFjAAegQICBAC&usg=AOvVaw24zaMp81HoMPcDZIslJis9

Consciousness was not kind to William Fowler. The first thing he was aware of was that he was laying down on something soft. It didn’t feel like his own bed - the sheets were too thin and stiff, like they’d been pulled out of a pack not too long ago. The next thing he was aware of was that his head was being split open. 

Well, not literally. But it certainly felt like it. Fowler’s face scrunched up as he became aware of just how much he hurt. Along with his head, his shoulders ached, and his whole body felt like it was filled with sand. His tongue was a lead weight, and he noted how dry his mouth was. He wanted water. And to sit up. And ask what had happened.

What had he been doing again?

He remembered talking to Prime. Discussing what to do with the girl they’d taken from the Decepticons. He’d cuffed her and was escorting her to a base in Arizona. He remembered loading her into the helicopter and starting the trip.

He’d just confirmed his ETA to one of the air traffic officers when something had grabbed him.

Fowler’s eyes flew open as he sucked in a breath.

She’d escaped. Somehow, the girl had slipped her cuffs and had snatched his gun. Despite the pounding throb in his head, he could still feel the phantom pressure of the barrel against his temple. She’d made him land the chopper.

He tried to remember more, but after he’d landed, everything went blank. Had he passed out? The more likely explanation was that she’d knocked him out. It would certainly explain his splitting headache. He supposed he should be happy she hadn’t shot him. 

Or maybe she had and he was too numb to feel it.

He renewed his efforts to regain his bearings. With an almost Herculean effort, he managed to open his eyes just a crack. White light filled his vision, forcing him to shut his eyes again with a wince. He tried again a moment later, and this time, the light faded to more bearable. The ceiling was a simple popcorn pattern. He could tell that there was a window off to his left due to the faint blue glow of either early or late light. He slowly worked his neck until he was able to turn his head, and finally confirmed where he was.

He was in a hospital room. It was a small room, with a single chair in the far corner and just enough room to walk around his bed and to reach the door. A strip of warm light spilled from under the closed door, interrupted every few moments with the shadow of feet moving past his room. Fowler worked himself up to a sitting position, waking himself up and adjusting to the pain of both his injuries and the bright lights. He finally managed to reach the call button and mashed it with his thumb.

Moments later, a young woman in uniform appeared, her hair pulled back into a tight, clean bun, with a stethoscope looped around her neck and a clipboard under her arm. She offered him a warm smile as she closed the door behind her.

“Good to see you awake, Sergeant Fowler,” she said as she set the clipboard on a hook attached to his bed.

“Where am I?” He was surprised at just how hard it was to speak. He really needed some water.

“You’re still in Nevada. Nellis Air Force base, to be more specific. They brought you in around 1600 hours.”

“...Just me?”

“Yes, sir. We contacted your commander to let them know you’re safe and they sent an officer down to speak with you.”

Great. Fowler sighed as he closed his eyes for a moment. “You mind tellin’ me how bad off I am?”

“Ah, yes.” The nurse picked up the clipboard again and ran a finger over the first page. “You were unconscious when they found you. You’ve got a nasty contusion on the back of your head, along with abrasions along your wrists from restraints, dehydration, and a severe heat stroke. You’re a very lucky man, Sergeant. You came very close to dying from overheating.”

So she really had escaped. And left him for dead. Truly a ‘Con, through and through. Fowler was not looking forward to the mountain of paperwork he’d have to fill out concerning this incident. 

“Well, since you’re awake, I’ll let Sergeant Higgens come in to speak with you,” the nurse said with a chipper smile. Fowler’s eyes widened and he tried to protest, but the nurse was already gone before he could even open his mouth. He grumbled as he leaned back against the pillow.

He _really_ needed that glass of water.

 

* * *

 

Rafael yawned for what felt like the hundredth time since he’d gotten to the Autobot base earlier that morning. He took a moment to look away from his screen and rub at his heavy eyelids to try and shoo away the exhaustion that had been plaguing him.

“You’ve been doing that quite a bit today,” Ratchet said as he glanced over at the small human. “I believe that’s a sign of incomplete recharge, yes?”

“Huh?” Raf sat up, meeting Ratchet’s optics with a groggy expression. “Oh, uh, kinda. It’s my baby sister. She’s still too young to sleep through the night and her room is next to mine. My mom’s been doing her best to help her stay down, but she still cries a lot. It’s just been keeping me awake is all. I’ll be fine.”

Ratchet studied him for a moment before saying slowly, “We have a cot if you need to power down for a while.” 

Rafael shook his head wearily. “No thanks. I can-” a yawn interrupted his sentence, “-can manage. I’ve been wanting to test this new coding for the groundbridge anyways.” Ratchet only hummed before turning back to his own work, enjoying the rare silence in the base. Miko had coerced Bulkhead into taking her dune-smashing. Bumblebee, Arcee, and Jack had gone off to scout out an energon signal in a mountainous range the humans called ‘the Rockies’. And Optimus was on his patrol rotation, assuring Ratchet that he would be fine on his own. 

Ratchet had noticed that Optimus had been rather quiet for the past few cycles. It wasn’t anything to worry about, he argued with himself, but he still vowed to keep an optic on his oldest friend. 

A sharp pinging from the main computer pierced through the peaceful silence, making Ratchet grimace as he was pulled away from his work once again. He grumbled as he marked his place and closed the window. He opened up the communication window and frowned to see that it was an audio-only call from an unknown frequency. 

“Rafael,” he called over to the young boy, “I need you to try and find where this call is coming from.” Rafael only nodded as he began to type away on his laptop with fervor. Ratchet read over the frequency code once more before finally answering. “This is Autobot Chief Medical Officer Ratchet. With whom am I speaking with?”

“Ratchet?” 

The tension eased from Ratchet’s frame at the sound of Agent Fowler’s voice. He waved a hand towards Raf to disregard his earlier request. “Agent Fowler. Apologies. I wasn’t expecting you to call. Why aren’t you using your secured line?”

There was a beat of silence before he heard Fowler sighing from the other end. “My cellphone has been compromised. I need to speak to Prime.”

“Optimus is currently out on patrol. I’ll comm him and let him know he needs to return to base.”

“Just put me through to him!”

“With all due respect, Agent Fowler, I cannot patch an unsecured line through to the Autobot commander-in-chief. It poses a dangerous security risk to both Optimus and the Autobot faction.” Ratchet could hear Fowler grumbling and cursing under his breath, but elected to ignore it. He stepped away from the console to privately comm his leader.

::Optimus?::

::Ratchet. Is something wrong?::

::Agent Fowler needs to speak with you. His secured line has been compromised, so I’ll need you to return to base quickly.::

::Understood. I am turning around now. I will comm you when I am close.::

Ratchet turned off the comm before returning his attention to the call. “Optimus is returning to base. If you would, Agent Fowler, I’d like for you to stay on the line until he does.”

“What happened?” Raf asked from his perch. Ratchet glanced at him in silent question. “If Fowler lost his phone, something must have happened. He was supposed to take Amira into custody, wasn’t he?”

The boy had a point, Ratchet conceded. Agent Fowler must have heard Rafael’s question as well, because he let out a frustrated grumble before speaking.

“The girl escaped.”

 

* * *

 

Amira sighed as she ran her fingers through her soaked hair, rinsing out the shampoo suds as best she could. She was getting the hang of maneuvering her strange cast so that she could keep her balance, and hadn’t fallen even once since stepping into the shower. She heard the faint buzz of her cell phone - a perfect replica that had been waiting at her door this morning, along with a pair of crutches - but chose to ignore it for now. She would answer it once she finished her shower, but for now, she was going to enjoy the hot water.

She had just put her face under the stream of steaming water when she heard a faint thudding. She recognized it as giant footsteps and tuned it out. Probably just Breakdown or a Vehicon grabbing some supplies they kept in the closet her unit was in.

A moment later, there was an even louder creaking noise before a cacophonous whine of metal and a whoosh of frigid air hit Amira’s bare skin, causing her to gasp. She looked up and found Knock Out’s familiar red eyes peering down at her, one of his hands holding onto the _roof of her bathroom._

“I have been messaging you for ten kliks, fleshie. What could possibly be keeping yo-”

“Whoa!” Amira shrieked as she wrapped her arms around herself in a vain attempt to cover herself. She pressed her back against the side of the shower stall and fought to keep from slipping on the wet tile. “What the _HELL?!_ ” 

“Well? Care to explain yourself?” Knock Out questioned, ignoring her distress. 

Amira’s shock morphed into seething rage. “Get out! What the fuck is wrong with you?!” she screeched. 

The medic had the nerve to look offended. “I need to speak with you and you were ignoring my calls.”

“I was busy, obviously!” She curled further in on herself to try to better hide her nakedness. “Put my roof back! I’m getting out!”

“I don’t see you moving.”

“I am not moving from this spot while you’re watching me! Put. My roof. Back.” Knock Out only stared at her with narrowed eyes and the beginnings of a smile on his lips. Snarling, she grabbed the nearest thing - a shampoo bottle - and hurled it at his head. The bottle hit the side of Knock Out’s face with a dull thwack before falling to the floor far below. His frown returned as he brought a hand up to his face where the plastic projectile had made contact.

“Now that wasn’t very nice.”

“Knock Out, if you don’t put my roof back right now, I will sneak into your room tonight while you’re asleep and key dicks into your arms!” 

That got a reaction out of Knock Out. The medic’s frown turned irritated as he rolled his eyes. “Fine,” he grumbled before glancing at her again. “But I expect to see you in the medbay before the next cycle.”

“ _Now, Knock Out._ ” He let out an indignant snort before replacing the roof of her living unit. Amira shuffled to stand under the still-warm water to warm herself back up again before turning off the faucet and stepping out of the shower stall.

She didn’t waste too much time getting ready. She pulled on a camisole top that showed off the tattoo and a pair of shorts to keep her cast free. She slid on a pair of slip-on shoes and tied a jacket around her waist before reaching for the set of crutches and making her way into the medbay.

The moment she saw Knock Out, her anger resurfaced. “Just what the hell is your problem?” she snapped as she glared up at him. 

Knock Out looked up from the datapad he’d been reading. “Good, you’re here.” He set the datapad aside and walked over to her, holding out a hand for her to climb into. She made no move to do as he wanted though, causing him to raise a brow at her. “Let’s go, then.”

“Did you build my room so that you could just take off the _damn roof_ whenever you feel like it?!” 

He waved his other hand is a shooing motion. “That’s neither here nor there-”

“I beg to differ!”

“-Right now, though, we have other things to discuss.” He motioned to his open hand again. “I’m offering to let you come on your own, but I will pick you up if you keep stalling.” Amira stared at him indignantly, glowering at him as she worked her jaw. With a huff, she moved closer and situated herself in his hand, holding onto one of his fingers. 

Knock Out said nothing as he picked up her crutches and carried her over to the medical berth, setting her down on the edge and placing her crutches next to her. Amira scooted back so that her legs were laying flat against the berth.

“It has come to High Command’s attention that there was a step in your initiation that we overlooked,” Knock Out began as he picked up the datapad he’d set aside. “Usually, when a recruit takes the brand, they have a piece of their inner spark chamber removed to force their badge. It’s both a symbolic gesture and a logical one.” He flipped the datapad around to show off a diagram of a Vehicon to her. Lines of Cybertronian text popped up around the image, but she was only able to catch a few words. She made a mental note to spend some more time studying the Cybertronian alphabet.

“What does this have to do with me?” Amira asked, glancing up at Knock Out over the datapad. 

“The badges Decepticons wear contain a reader that keeps track of things like spark pulse and fuel levels. It also contains a tracker.” 

Ah.

“So, since I’m human and my badge is just ink-”

“Who told you that?” 

Amira blinked, confusion apparent in her expression as she stared up at him. “...No one. Everyone knows that tattoos are just ink, Knock Out.”

“Not yours.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Did I forget to tell you?” Knock Out tapped a finger to his mouth as he looked away in thought. “I could have sworn I had. Then again, I was exhausted that day. It’s possible that it slipped my processor.”

“Knock Out.” Amira took a deep breath to push down her irritation before continuing. “What did you not tell me?”

“That your tattoo isn’t simply ink.” He smirked as he gestured to the insignia on her shoulder. “While the artist was finishing with the paperwork and you were cleaning your arm, I slipped a little something into the ink she’d set out.”

“What did you do?” Amira placed a hand over the shimmering purple image. “Knock Out, what did you put in that ink?”

“Calm down. It was just some simple materials. Liquified protoform and metal shavings. Megatron insisted that your brand couldn’t simply _look_ Cybertronian - it had to _be_ Cybertronian.” 

She gaped at him, squeezing her shoulder a fraction tighter. “You… Knock Out, do you have any idea how dangerous that is?!” 

“Do your audio receptors simply shut off when I say I’m a medic? Of course I know it’s dangerous, but it worked out just fine. You didn’t have a bad reaction, and the raw materials have integrated quite nicely.”

She only stared at him, at a loss as to what she should say. “...You’re a real bastard, you know that?”

“So I’ve been told.” Knock Out brought up another diagram, this one a generic human shape. “Your badge does have Cybertronian elements to it, but not enough for our scanners to pick up on. So, I’ve been tasked with placing a tracker on you, as well as putting together a comm system.”

“A comm system?” Amira frowned and tilted her head slightly in confusion. “You mean the thing you have that lets you talk to other officers?”

“Exactly.”

“I already have a phone, Knock Out. I can contact you just fine with that.”

“Oh, you mean the phone you lost right before you were captured by Autobots?” Amira opened her mouth to argue, but no counterpoint came to her rescue. Scowling, she closed her mouth. “That’s what I thought. No, this comm system will be integrated onto your person. And now that I know that your body has reacted well to Cybertronian metals, I can move forward with the project.”

“On my person? You mean like, inside of me?” That was a scary thought. As much as she had to trust Knock Out with her health, she wasn’t sure she wanted him coming anywhere near her with surgical tools.

“Soundwave has looked over my notes and signed off on them.” He swiped the screen to show a close-up of a human head. A strange device outlined in red appeared on the side of the head, wrapping around the ear like a cochlear implant. “I’ll only be taking the measurements today, but once I have the device ready, I’ll place it where it needs to go.” She reached out with slightly trembling fingers as she runs a finger along the red outline. 

“...I didn’t think you’d want to do anything like this for me,” she said quietly. She swallowed as her other hand moved up to her right temple, tracing the implant’s shape along her scalp, curving her finger around her ear. The phantom touch left a mirrored-image of the device imprinted on her skin. 

“I’m not looking forward to it,” Knock Out assured her, “but I was given this assignment by Soundwave, and I have no desire to make him angry. As absolutely disgusting as I think your kind is, I will have to bear it.”

“How noble of you,” she snorted.

“Indeed.”

Knock Out spent the next hour explaining the finer details of the procedure to Amira, showing her the schematics of the comm device and outlining the steps for the actual surgery. Amira had been trying to wrap her mind around the idea of surgery - she’d never needed to go under the knife before - but when Knock Out mentioned that he’d need to access her brain, she decided she didn’t want to hear anymore.

Thankfully, at that very moment, Breakdown came into the medbay, his arms full with large containers. “Delivery for Doc Knock,” he called out as he set the boxes down and rolled his shoulders. Amira leapt at the opportunity presented before her.

“Hey, Breakdown! It’s just about time for your morning ration, right? I’ll go with you!” 

Breakdown blinked in confusion before glancing up at Knock Out. “Uh… not for another cycle or so.”

She marched on. “Oh, don’t be silly! You’re so low on fuel that your clock is getting slow.” She wobbled as she got to her feet on the berth and snatched up her crutches. “It’s about time for my breakfast too, so I’ll go with you!”

It was a piss-poor attempt to get out of this conversation - as shown by the knowing smirk on Knock Out’s face - but Amira was not going to admit to anything. Breakdown looked between her and the doc, obviously at a loss as to how he should answer her. So she decided to answer for him.

“Awesome. If you’ll just help me back to my room real quick, I’ll grab my stuff and we can head out.” 

That got Breakdown’s processor to jumpstart. He frowned at her as he took a step towards her. “I don’t take orders from you. And I’m not a transport vessel.” Amira’s shoulders stiffened as Knock Out chuckled behind her. She didn’t try to look back up at him, but without even looking, she knew he was grinning, the smug bastard.

“It’s alright, partner. I think the fleshie’s getting tired of my company. You should go get yourself a cube.” He was enjoying this. He knew she was uncomfortable and was no doubt going to lorde this over her for the stars knew how long.

Breakdown frowned at his partner, obviously not satisfied with this change in schedule, but after a moment, he grumbled something and came closer to collect Amira. Whatever Breakdown had been thinking, he’d obviously concluded that he wasn’t going to get anymore answers out of Knock Out right now. Amira was grateful as Breakdown picked her up and helped her settle on his shoulder before heading back towards the little storage closet where her food was kept.

 

* * *

 

Breakdown had tried to probe Amira for answers the moment they were out of the medbay, but she had simply waved his questions away, feigning hunger and lingering exhaustion from her ordeal with the Autobots. Breakdown hadn’t taken too well to being denied answers again, but hadn’t pried anymore as they entered the mess hall. 

As Breakdown walked up to an energon dispenser and grabbed a cube, Amira felt the stares of the surrounding Vehicons. Word must have gotten around about her return by now, but she was still hesitant to ask about how the soldiers had fared in the aftermath of the Autobot attack. Already, she could see that a few had welds and patches scattered along their armor, along with an occasional missing limb.

She shifted slightly in her seat as Breakdown made his way to his usual table and sat down, unnerved by the questions she was desperate to ask. She didn’t fight as he picked her up and set her down on the cool surface of the table. She’d left her crutches in the medbay, seeing no reason to bring them if she was going to return once she finished her breakfast. She pulled out a slightly shriveled pear and bit into the tender skin. It wasn’t too soft, and the inside was still sweet. 

She had just opened a bag of potato chips when she noticed that one of the Vehicons was approaching. They had a collection of scrapes and dents all along their frame, along with a large metal plate welded to their side that mostly covered what looked like a nasty burn that peeked out from the edges of the dressing. Their steps were slow and calculated, careful to not aggravate their injuries any further. They stopped in front of the table and stared down at her with that burning red visor.

Amira swallowed her mouthful of chips as she met their gaze. She didn’t dare hope, yet she couldn’t keep herself from quietly saying “...Margaret?”

The Vehicon’s hands trembled slightly before one of them came up to run a finger along her bare arm. She took note of the black paint that had been almost completely scraped away, leaving the tips of their fingers a dull silver. 

“You’re alive.” Amira’s eyes flicked back up to them as they spoke. Their finger ran down her arm one more time before moving further down, hovering over the netted plastic of her cast. “I thought they were going to-to reprogram you…”

Under normal circumstances, Amira would have been opposed to this much physical contact, but the tone in Margaret’s voice stopped her from trying to pull away. It seemed that her absence hadn’t been as unnoticed as she’d first suspected. She knew they were upset, but she couldn’t let the opportunity to have her questions answered slip away.

“What happened? How bad was it after the fighting stopped? I’ve been trying to find out, but no one will give me a straight answer.” Margaret’s finger fell away as they began to wring their hands together, looking away. That didn’t sit well with Amira. She motioned to an empty stool. “Sit down?”

She glanced back over her shoulder, finding Breakdown silently sipping his ration, seemingly more content to stare off into space than pay attention to her. Whether he truly wished to ignore her or was simply offering her a bit of privacy, she wasn’t sure, but now wasn’t the time to analyze that.

Margaret didn’t wait for Breakdown’s permission this time as they slipped into the offered seat and placed their elbows on the table’s surface. They threaded their fingers together and shifted around in their seat. Amira waited for them to start. Even without being able to read EMFs, she could tell that Margaret was clearly upset over what happened.

“We were clearing another corridor when Bumblebee hit us. He mowed down the front line like it was nothing. I didn’t even realize what was happening before he had a blaster out and aimed for my spark. If it hadn’t been for the guy next to me pushing me down for cover, I would have offlined. But I still got hit.” They placed a tentative hand over the welded patch to emphasize their point. “I was lucky that I wasn’t leaking energon. The blast had melted my lines, so I was able to get up once I managed to pull myself together. I tried to find out what was happening on my comms, but there was so much traffic that I couldn’t make out anything. So I went through the hall to see who was still functioning. I counted eleven mechs offline - five of them from my own squad. 

“We were sorting out a plan for a counter-attack when we suddenly go the all-clear. I thought it was a trick at first… but then they told us to start bringing the injured in to be repaired and fixing the breach in the ship. Me and a few others managed to bring in the ones that were too injured to move, but I didn’t stay too long. I went looking for you, but you weren’t in the hanger. I thought maybe you had hidden somewhere, but none of the soldiers that I’d asked had even seen you. I wanted to keep looking but my supervisor spotted me and had to practically drag me to the medbay.

“I was waiting for a patch for my side when I overheard Breakdown and Knock Out arguing about you. I didn’t catch everything, but I heard enough to know that you were gone. That you’d been taken by the Autobots and that someone would have to tell Megatron.” Their voice fell away as they went back to wringing their hands. Amira pulled herself closer to reassure them that she was there.

“...Do you know how many casualties there were? In total?” she asked quietly. Margaret’s wince told her enough, but she had to know. 

“The final count was around sixty, last I heard,” they answered. They stayed quiet for a moment before saying softly “Joey didn’t make it. The Wreckers got him.”

Amira’s heart dropped into her stomach.

She didn’t know Joey all that well. She’d known him for all of an hour at most, but he was a part of Margaret’s squadron. He’d been Margaret’s teammate and friend. She reached out to place a hand on their arm in a comforting gesture. “I’m so sorry.” She swallowed once. Twice. She fought to find the right words before asking, “Did you...Do you hold funerals for fallen soldiers?”

Margaret’s visor rose to look at her as they stopped wringing their hands. “Yes, we do,” they said, “We have a rite at the end of every deca-cycle in honor of all those who went offline.”

“Wait. Why not have a rite for each soldier?”

Amira didn’t miss how Margaret’s shoulders fell slightly as they said “Because we’d never get anything else done. There are too many. Especially after something like a battle or a raid on an energon mine.”

The weight in Amira’s stomach grew even heavier. Just how many Vehicons were there, for them to only hold funerals once a month due to the sheer number of fallen? How often were they dying in the line of duty?

How many of their sparks had been extinguished by Autobot fire?

Burning hatred ignited in the pit of her stomach, and Amira could feel her shoulders begin to tremble with restraint. She had to force herself to take a breath as she worked her jaw, hearing the dull click echo inside her head as she did so. She distracted herself by running her hand up and down the expanse of Margaret’s arm.

She decided in that moment that defeating the Autobots wasn’t enough. Simply winning the war would never be enough. They had to answer for more than she could even comprehend. 

No. Defeat was too good for the Autobots.

She wanted to see them suffer.

She wanted to meticulously pick apart each of them until there was nothing left.

She wanted to bring the Prime himself to his knees.

And there was no force on Earth, neither human nor alien, that was going to get in her way.

 

* * *

 

Miko felt her seatbelt tighten around her as Bulkhead drove over another steep incline. She’d begged him to take her on his patrol, and after an endless stream of ‘pretty please’ and puppy eyes, the mech had given in. She’d eagerly hopped into Bulkhead’s cabin and demanded they go offroad. Bulkhead had obliged, much to her delight.

They’d been out for over an hour now, and Miko had finally started to settle down a bit as they went about their patrol route. One of Slash Monkey’s more popular songs blasted through Bulkhead’s speakers, filling the cabin with the riff of electric guitars and the percussion of drums. Miko bobbed her head to the beat as they drove, curling her fingers around an air guitar that she plucked at as the song played on.

After the song ended, Bulkhead lowered the volume in order to speak. “We’ve got a few more miles of patrol left before we’re home-free. We could watch that monster truck rally you recorded on the TV if you want?”

“Maybe,” Miko hummed as she leaned back against the seat and stretched out. “I’ve been meaning to watch it.” There was a beat of silence as a thought surfaced in Miko’s head. She sat up slightly. “Hey, Bulk?”

“Yeah?”

“How did you join the Wreckers?”

“Oh man, that’s a story,” he chuckled, “I’d been an Autobot for a few vorns at that point. I was stationed with a battalion near Tyger Pax. We were protecting a convoy, mostly from Cons, but a few neutral scavengers too. We’d had another attack on our left flanks and our sergeant had me and a few other bots run interference. It was awesome, Miko. You should’ve seen us. Surrounded by Cons, just me and six other mechs. The odds were stacked against us, but we pulled through and kicked their afts all the way back to the Kalis borders. 

“When we finally managed to rendezvous with the rest of our unit, we had company. I drove up and found myself face-to-face with the leader of the Wreckers, Ultra Magnus himself. Turns out, High Command had ordered the Wreckers to transport some of the convoy’s more ‘delicate’ stock off-world, and the Cons had intercepted one of their comm feeds. They had the entire perimeter surrounded and were waiting to take out everyone out as soon as the Wreckers arrived. 

“Ultra Magnus and our sergeant argued for a bit, but they finally came to the decision that we were gonna team up and fight our way off the planet with the payload. I got partnered up with this mech - strange fella, he was. An empurata named Whirl. He had real issues with taking orders. Heh, he was worse than Jackie! But anyway, me and Whirl took point while they loaded up the cargo. That mech had a thing for turret guns, let me tell you. We were taking down Cons left and right before they finally gave the all-clear and had us board their ship. It was a tight fit, since we weren’t used to having so many bots in one ship, but we made it work.

“And it turned out to work out pretty well for us in the end. Cause when the Cons started chasing us, we had plenty of mechs ready to fight while and full crew kept us in the air. I lost count of the number of Cons I managed to whack off the sides of the hull. I was almost disappointed when we finally cleared the atmosphere.

“We hailed the transport vessel that was waiting in orbit for the Wreckers and managed to get every bit of that cargo onboard. Lemme tell you, Miko, it felt great. We’d spent ages just guarding stuff and scaring away Cons. For once it felt like I was actually doing something that really mattered in this war.

“Then Ultra Magnus approached me and started telling me what a good job I did and that I had real potential. He started talking all this military jargon that I didn’t really get, but then he asked if I would be interested in trying out for the Wreckers. Told me that he’d already run it by my sergeant and everything. I said yes and the rest is history!”

“Whoa,” Miko said with awe. She grinned at the image in her head of Bulkhead going up against so many Decepticons at once and coming out unscathed. But she found her smile faltering slightly. “What were try-outs like?”

“Eh, kind of like your military boot camp. Lots of yelling and drills to account for different scenarios. Nothing I couldn’t handle though.”

“How long were you there?”

“You’re asking a lot of questions, Miko. Something on your mind?”

Miko crossed her arms and shrugged, despite the fact that he couldn’t see her. “I was just wondering what you had to do to join them. You always sound so happy when you talk about them.”

“Well, yeah. They were my teammates. But that doesn’t mean I don’t like being a part of Team Prime. As long as I’m helping with the fight, I’m happy.”

Miko hummed in understanding. “...Did you have to take a test?”

“I did. Ugh, it was probably the hardest test I’ve ever taken. Come to think of it, it was actually the only test I’ve ever taken.”

Miko grimaced as she looked out of the window. “So you really did have to do all of that…” she mumbled. She squeezed her hands into fists as she finally asked him “Did you have a graduation?”

“Eh, Autobots don’t really have anything like a graduation. Not in the human sense anyways. But we did take the oaths once we passed the final exam and got our badges.”

The memory of Amira’s taunts echoed in Miko’s mind, and she found herself trying to understand why he hadn’t told her about this before. Was it simply that she hadn’t ever asked? Or had he just not bothered to tell her because he didn’t think she needed to know? 

She couldn’t keep her next question to herself.

“Hey, Bulk?”

“Hm?”

“When can I get my badge?”

Bulkhead said nothing, the cabin filling with the rumble of his engine as they drove on. The longer the silence stretched, the longer she fought to keep quiet. 

“Miko…”

“I’ve been working with you guys for months now. You said I’m a Wrecker, and Optimus said that all three of us are Autobots! Shouldn’t we have badges like you?”

“It’s not that simple. There’s more to it than just the badge itself. There’s a lot of other stuff that comes with it.”

“Like what?”

“Like- Well… what’s got you so interested in this stuff all of a sudden?”

“Just tell me why you won’t let me have a badge!” Miko kicked at the glove compartment with frustration. 

“Look, it’s not my call to make. It’s Optimus’.”

“Then I’ll ask him!”

“Miko!” Bulkhead’s voice was stern now. She huffed as she pressed back against her seat. “Optimus had told all of us that he doesn’t want to involve humans in the war. That’s why he won’t let Fowler ask your military to help us. You’re all in enough danger just by knowing about us. He won’t let you take the badge because it would only draw more attention to you.”

“I can fight! I’ve kicked tailpipe before!”

“I’m not saying you can’t. I’m saying that Optimus won’t accept you into our ranks because he wants to keep you safe. Please, Miko. Try to understand.”

Miko worked her jaw as her hands clenched into fists. She pressed further back into her seat and crossed her arms, glaring out of the passenger’s side window to watch the desert terrain pass by.

A beat of tense silence passed before Miko said quietly “Megatron let _her_ have a badge…”

Another beat of silence.

“... Is that what this is all about?” Bulkhead asked softly. Miko said nothing, choosing instead to glare at a nearby cliffside. “Miko, you know it’s not the same. The Cons don’t care about humans. Megatron has no problem letting her risk her life because he doesn’t care if she offlines.”

Miko’s frustration stirred inside her chest. She knew deep down that he was right, but she didn’t want to admit it. Even though Amira was a Decepticon, even though she was evil, she still had enough respect to have been allowed to take the faction’s insignia. That was more than Miko could say.

The hiss and crackle of the radio broke the silence before Ratchet’s voice filtered through Bulkhead’s speakers. “Bulkhead, return to base. Now.” There was a panicked tone to his voice that had the Wrecker speeding up without hesitation.

“Ratchet? What’s going on?” Miko asked as she sat up, her seat belt tightening around her chest. She pressed a hand against her seat as Bulkhead sped up.

“Optimus needs everyone back to base for debriefing. Let me know when you’re close,” Ratchet replied, his answer not helping in any way.

“What happened, doc?” Bulkhead asked. There was a beat of silence before they heard the medic’s staticky sigh. 

“It would seem that the human escaped Agent Fowler’s custody.”

 

* * *

 

Amira grumbled as she fiddled with the flimsy drawstring bag she was trying to shove her laptop into. Normally, she could just carry her computer out on her own, but now, with a broken ankle, she couldn’t hold both the laptop and her crutches. She pulled the bag closed - or as close as she could get it - and slung it over her shoulder before picking up her crutches and making her way out into the medbay.

After her reunion with Margaret, she’d asked Breakdown to take her back to her room so she could get started. She went through the list of things she needed to do. 

First things first, she needed to finish writing out her official report about her capture and imprisonment in the Autobot base. She’d started it, but she wanted to get it done and submitted before the end of the shift. 

Then she had the built-up lessons and exercises to deal with. She doubted Soundwave was going to go easy on her just because she’d been captured, mostly because of what Knock Out said about it technically be her own fault that they’d gotten her in the first place. If Knock Out came to that conclusion, she knew the Communications officer probably did too. So she’d have to have that taken care of.

Then there was the assignment Megatron had given her. She’d had everything on that USB she’d had with her during the attack, but she’d lost it in the struggle along with her phone. She’d backed everything up on her laptop - thank the stars - and she needed to put it all together in a zip file before sending it off to Soundwave for inspection.

Then there was her newest project. It was still in the early planning stage. It barely even counted as a plan. But she was going to put as much effort as possible into it, in the hopes that it may come to fruition. 

Because if it did? The Prime was going to wish that he’d never given his Autobots the order to take her, humiliate her, and send her back to prison.

She was going to make them all regret having ever met her.

She slowly entered the medbay, maneuvering her crutches along the narrow walkway as she went. She paused when she saw the sight before her.

Megatron was laid back on the main medical slab with Knock Out standing over her him, a scanner in his hand. He tapped at something on the screen before running it over the warlord’s frame. Neither of them had seemed to notice her presence, and she decided to keep it that way for the time being. She moved back against the wall and sat down, setting both her crutches and her bag down to watch the silent exchange between the Lord of the Decepticons and the Chief Medical Officer.

Megatron was watching Knock Out work with rapt attention, his violet eyes practically piercing through the medic’s plating. He was still, but still tense. It seemed that the warlord always had his guard up, even during medical examinations. Knock Out looked just as apprehensive, his posture stiff in a way Amira didn’t see all too often. His usual vexing and bantering was absent, replaced instead with anxious silence. His face was the mask of a professional, neutral and focused on the task at hand.

There was a beep before Knock Out brought the scanner up again to read the screen. “Well, it appears that there hasn’t been any further damage so far. Some of the internal welding is still raised, though not nearly as much as I was expecting.” He glanced over the scanner to stare at the Decepticon insignia emblazoned on Megatron’s chest. He seemed to ponder something for a moment before meeting the other’s eyes. “If I may, my Lord?” he asked as he gestured to Megatron’s chest.

Megatron glared at Knock Out for a moment before relenting and leaning his head back against the berth. For a moment, nothing happened. Then there was a click and a whirring noise. Amira couldn’t see everything from where she was, but she could see that the plating of Megatron’s chest was shifting and folding away. A brilliant light appeared then, bathing both Decepticons in deep violet. A wave of charge rippled out as well, filling the air with static electricity and raising the hair on Amira’s skin. She tried to catch a glance of the light source, her curiosity seemingly cranked up to eleven in its presence.

Knock Out hummed as he ran the scanner again. “It would seem that the dark energon in your spark as been aiding you in the healing process, my liege. There’s an excess amount of regenerated protoform and your spark chamber has less than half of the trauma that it initially received.” He looked down at the bright light and let out a hum of wonder. “That’s quite the energy booster you’ve got there.”

“It would seem that Unicron approves of the work I am doing,” Megatron hummed before meeting Knock Out’s eye. “How soon until I can be cleared?”

“Well, usually I’d say to give it another deca-cycle at that very least, but with how quickly you’re healing, it could only be a few more mega-cycles. Maybe less? I’d like to keep an optic on your progress for a bit longer. We don’t know much about this apparent healing factor of yours.”

“Then I shall return at a later date,” Megatron hummed as he sat up. For just a moment, Amira could see the brilliant light of the warlord’s spark. It was almost impossible to look at with how bright it was, but at the same time, she couldn’t tear her eyes away from it. The plating of Megatron’s chest shifted back into place, enclosing his spark inside of his body once more, shielding it from the outside. She took a minute to be disappointed at the loss before Megatron was on the move again. 

Megatron stood up from the berth and rolled his shoulders, causing the massive spiked pauldrons to shift as well. As she beheld the massive Cybertronian before her, it hit her for the first time just how much bigger Megatron was than Knock Out. She’d always been in Knock Out’s hands whenever he and their leader were in the same room, so she hadn’t been able to really compare. But now, sitting back and watching as the two officers conversed, she was able to take in just how tiny Knock Out was compared to the warlord that stood before him.

“Erm, will… that be all, my liege?” Knock Out meekly asked, his posture still stiff but docile. It was so strange to see Knock Out acting so anxious. She’d seen him submit before, even cower in Megatron’s presence. But this? It gave Amira the sense that not all Decepticons followed Megatron out of loyalty or agreement with his views, but out of fear.

She wasn’t sure how she felt about that.

“For now,” Megatron hummed. “As you were.” He gave Knock Out one last look before leaving the medbay. As soon as the door slid shut behind Megatron, Knock Out’s shoulders sagged and he let out a groan of relief. Amira stood up again, readjusting her backpack and her crutches as she made her way along the walkways. She wasn’t sure what was pushing her, but she had the urge to go after Megatron. Questions she’d had ever since she’d escaped threatened to spill over, and she wasn’t about to let this opportunity slip through her hands.

“Where are you in a hurry to?” Knock Out’s question made her pause for only a moment before she continued on towards the exit. 

“Out. I’ll be back.”

“Try to actually come back this time,” Knock Out called out before she passed through the little door they’d made for her. She looked both ways, but saw no sign of Megatron. She grimaced and decided to simply guess. So, she turned right to head towards the bridge, for there was no other place she could think of that he could be heading.

She pushed herself faster and faster down the hallway, grunting with the effort it took to move with the bag thumping against her back. The shoulder rest was rubbing her armpits raw and the hand grips were getting slick with sweat, but Amira refused to slow down as she made her way through the corridors.

After what felt like an hour, Amira turned another corner and found Megatron. He was walking down the hallway with leisure, yet somehow still keeping purpose and intimidation in his step. She swallowed to wet her drying mouth before setting out after him. The rhythmic click of her crutches filled the hall as she drew closer.

When she had finally caught up, she took a moment to catch her breath before calling out after him. 

“Lord Megatron!” 

The warlord gave no indication that he’d heard her as he continued on. So she called out again.

“Lord Megatron!”

Megatron paused this time, tilting his head to the side to glance back at her impassively. She came to stop as those violet eyes pinned her to the spot. Her mouth dried once more and she renewed her grip on her crutches. 

Megatron ran an eye over her small form before he rumbled out “You have a reason to call after me.” It wasn’t a question, but Amira had a feeling that it wasn’t just a statement either. It felt like a command. She straightened slightly before bowing her head down in a sign of respect.

“Forgive me,” she began before looking up at him again. “I just… I needed to talk to you, and I saw you leaving the medbay.” Megatron made no move to turn to face her, but he didn’t try to leave either. She continued. “I...I needed to speak to you about something that happened while I was imprisoned. While I was there, Optimus Prime spoke to me. And there are things he said that I need to ask you about.” She swallowed dryly before adding on “Things about your recent acquisitions.”

Megatron said nothing for a minute or so, simply staring down at her as if she was nothing more than an unruly pet. The inferno in his eye shook her, but she refused to back down. She kept her chin up, her face set in a determined expression. 

“You presume much, human, to think you can demand answers from me.”

Prickles ran up her spine at his implications. “I-I would never demand anything of you, Lord Megatron,” she explained. “I know that you don’t owe me an explanation for anything you do, but… but everyone I’ve asked won’t give me a straight answer. I know you don’t dress up your words. You won’t try to spare my feelings or ease me into anything.” 

Megatron’s glare turned thoughtful, calculating. She didn’t back down as she forced herself to meet his eyes. He studied for what felt like an eternity before letting out a low growl.

“What sort of lies has Optimus been filling your mind with?” he hissed. The venomous tone his voice took as he spoke the Prime’s name allowed insight about just how deep their hatred ran. It was almost palpable. She glanced around before speaking.

“Do you want to discuss this out in the open?” 

Megatron’s violet eyes brightened as he finally turned to face her fully. He looked like he wanted to say something, but he caught himself before his lip curled. “Are you suggesting we speak somewhere more private?”

“There are things I need to say that shouldn’t be overheard. Not yet, anyways.” She wasn’t too sure about that, but she’d said it anyways, and now it was too late to take it back. She wasn’t sure if Megatron was going to continue talking to her or squish her for her insolence.

To her genuine surprise, Megatron reached out a hand towards her. She bit the inside of her cheek to keep her mouth from hanging open as she stared at the worn metal of his hand. He’d made his distaste for her kind well-known. The very idea that he would ever offer to hold her seemed impossible. And yet, here he was, offering to do just that. She glanced up at him again just in time to see his snarl.

“Do not test my patience,” he snapped. His claws curled slightly, no longer in an offering gesture, but an order. She bowed her head and moved closer, stepping gently into his hand. She was conscious about every single move she made to settle down into his palm, adjusting herself so that she wouldn’t fall before placing her crutches in her lap. 

When she looked up at Megatron, he said nothing as he lifted her up and continued to make his way down that corridor. When they made it to the end, instead of a left towards the bridge, Megatron took a right, taking Amira down a hallway she’d never been down before.

Amira glanced back over her shoulder to watch as the familiar hallway disappeared. She took a deep breath before turning back around to face the unknown in the presence of the Lord of the Decepticons.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Someone should really teach Knock Out the concept of knocking before entering.
> 
> I've made so many Picrews of Amira, you guys don't even know (link below)
> 
> https://geminiwishes.tumblr.com/post/186661678765/so-ive-been-playing-around-with-picrew-a-lot
> 
> The semester starts up again soon, but I'm going to do my best to keep up with this fic. It's quickly becoming my favorite one right now!
> 
> I made a playlist for Amira that I listen to whenever I'm writing her. Here it is! - https://soundcloud.com/geminiwishes/sets/amira  
> Enjoy! ^-^


	14. A Funeral and a Party

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one's a bit shorter than I'd like, but I think you'll agree that the pacing called for it.
> 
> -
> 
> Like what you see? Come check out my Tumblr and shoot me a message! I love hearing from you guys!
> 
> https://www.google.com/url?sa=t&source=web&rct=j&url=http://geminiwishes.tumblr.com/&ved=2ahUKEwjI2ePR0rniAhVMeawKHXCYB18QFjAAegQICBAC&usg=AOvVaw24zaMp81HoMPcDZIslJis9

Sometimes, Amira forgot that Cybertronians had different ideas about what was essential for things like a warship. She was reminded of this yet again as Megatron opened a door that led into what she could only guess was a boardroom. It was most likely a war room, with the large table in the middle surrounded by chairs and screens affixed to the walls. In the center of the table was a cylindrical device that she didn’t recognize. 

The door shut behind them with a hiss as Megatron walked over to the table and deposited Amira on the tabletop. She sat down and set her crutches aside in favor of fishing out her laptop and flipping it open. 

“I grow impatient, human,” Megatron spat as he leered down at her. Amira had to bite down on her tongue to keep from swallowing it. She could feel her hands growing colder as her fingers flitted across the computer keys, and paused their rapid movement to finally look up at the warlord that stared at her in the very same way a lion stared at a gazelle.

It took her a few tries to finally speak. “Back when I was in a cell in the Autobot base, I was questioned by their human liaison, Agent Fowler. And Optimus Prime watched the entire thing. When Agent Fowler got tired of me and left, Prime tried to make me ‘see reason.’”

Megatron seemed to bristle at her wording, but Amira went on.

“He told me that I was refusing to acknowledge your lust for power. And then he mentioned something that you’ve come across recently.” She met Megatron’s eyes. “He mentioned something called dark energon.”

For a moment, Megatron said nothing, simply staring into Amira’s eyes and refusing to look away. Amira was certain that she was going to break under that intense violet stare. She could already feel her fingers beginning to tremble from where they were resting on the laptop’s trackpad as the lump in her throat grew and grew, threatening to choke her. 

Finally, Megatron looked away with a hum, seeming to be mulling over her words. Amira didn’t dare let her shoulders fall as his gaze fell away from her. One of those wickedly-sharp claws tapped against his chin as he stared intently at one of the blank screens on the wall.

“I suppose it would make sense for Optimus to try and turn you against me this way,” he thought out loud. “No doubt he was counting on appealing to your humanity.” His eyes flicked down to her once more. “Such a shame there is none to exploit.” A warm feeling blossomed in her chest as she puffed up slightly with pride. Megatron’s eyes narrowed then. “But it seemed that he appealed to your curiosity instead.”

Amira wanted to argue, but she knew that he was right. She would never doubt Megatron, but ever since the Prime had spoken to her, the questions had begun niggling at her, demanding answers. Her eyes fell away from Megatron, staring down at her hands as she fought the urge to pick at her nails.

“Tell me then - in your studies, have you come across the tales of Unicron?”

“I believe so,” she said slowly, racking her brain for the information. “He was called the… the Chaos Bringer?” Megatron nodded in confirmation. “And he was said to be the Unmaker. Like the human stories of the devil.”

“Unicron was said to have shattered worlds with the power he wielded. His power was said to be so mighty that his very lifeblood was altered, and it became known as dark energon. It is said that any who harness it will have a direct link to Unicron himself.”

Amira frowned slightly. “You talk as if there are people who don’t believe in the existence of Unicron.”

“Unfortunately, there are those who actively decide to ignore the signs that Unicron is more than a mere legend thought up by overzealous prophets.”

“And where do you stand in all of that then?” Her tongue felt like a rock the moment the words left her mouth. Megatron glanced down her and, thankfully, grinned like he’d been told a particularly juicy secret.

“I have felt Unicron’s presence in my very spark. His energy had guided my actions ever since I plunged a dark energon shard into my spark chamber.”

“Wait, you did what?”

Megatron seemed irritated to have been interrupted, but her shock had her continuing.

“You...Are you saying you _ stabbed _ yourself in the spark with dark energon?” Amira sounded genuinely surprised, and a bit concerned at the imagery those words brought up.

“I did what was necessary to wield the power of Unicron for my own purposes.” His voice was lower now, a dangerous sort of lilt to it that stood the hairs of Amira’s neck on end. Still, she went on.

“Lord Megatron, that...that sounds incredibly dangerous.” She did her best to push as much concern as possible into her tone. “If not all Cybertronians don’t believe that Unicron is even real, and dark energon is as rare as I’ve been told, then there’s hardly any actual scientific research about it. You couldn’t have possibly have known what it would do to you!”

Megatron was leering at her now, but her concern overshadowed her fear. He leaned forward slightly to get closer. 

“Do not presume that you have any authority when it comes to my kind’s physiology or my own choices. I will not stand for such insubordination.”

“I’m not saying that I do,” she assured him with a frown, “I’m just trying to understand your objectivity, my Lord.” She wasn’t sure what to make of Megatron’s defensive attitude. Perhaps someone else in his ranks had objected to his self-experimentation?

“My objectivity consists of one goal only - the complete and total annihilation of all Autobots who stand between me and my rightful place as the ruler of our new empire.” His eyes narrowed on her. “If there is more you wished to divulge, I would suggest you get on with it.”

Right. She pulled up the file she’d been working on late last night. “I’m not sure how much of this you already know, so stop me if I repeat anything,” she began. “When I managed to free myself and force Agent Fowler to land the helicopter we were in, I managed to take his cellphone, among other things. I gave them all to Soundwave, and he pulled all the information that he deemed important. I asked him to let me have the phone to do my own search.”

“You believe you are capable of finding information that my communications officer cannot?” Megatron sounded both amused and sceptical.

“I believe that I can look at information with a fresh eye. There are things that you may see as unnecessary simply because you and your kind aren’t familiar with the culture and sociology of humans. I wanted to see if there might have been anything that I could gleam off his phone that might have been overlooked - things like codenames, personal notes, things like that.”

She turned the computer around to offer up the information embellished across the screen. “While I was digging, I found an address book. And included in it were some locations that I think you will be very interested in.”

That seemed to garner Megatron’s attention. He peered down at the small screen, his violet eyes scanning over the list of addresses presented to him.

“And just what locations might these be? The quardinants for the Autobot base?” 

“Unfortunately not. I don’t think Agent Fowler’s commander would have allowed him to keep information like that on his phone. But he did have locations that are almost just as interesting.” Amira allowed the edges of her mouth to curl up in a smile. “A few loved ones, for starters. But more importantly, the locations of the children that the Autobots keep watch over. And since we know they’ve been reserving their energon, this narrows down the location of the Autobot base even further.” 

Amira would never admit it, but her heart did a little flip as Megatron’s eyes dilated and that wicked grin returned to his face. She’d made him smile;  _ she’d _ done that. 

“This is excellent indeed,” Megatron all but purred as he straightened. “Knowing the location of the Autobot pets gives us the kind of edge we need right now.” He ran a finger along his chin again, already coming up with ways to use this information. “You will forward this information to Soundwave immediately. I will see about coordinating a plan of attack.”

“If I may, Lord Megatron,” she interjected. She knew that the moment she told Megatron her findings, he would start plotting. She’d need to offer her proposition straight away. 

It seemed that even in good spirits, Megatron did not take kindly to being interrupted.

“What is it?”

“I’ve been compiling everything that I can find on all three of the children and Agent Fowler. And I started to think about the possibilities this information could afford us.” It was now or never. “And, if you would like, I’ve come up with a possible course of action.”

Despite his irritation of being interrupted, Amira caught a glint of amusement in Megatron’s expression.

“Oh?”

“My Lord, while killing them would definitely be quicker, it’s just not as,” she thought over her words for a moment, “satisfying.” Megatron rose a brow at that, so she went on. She laid out everything she had planned out thus far, leaving out no detail, no matter how insignificant it might seem. And as she did, Megatron’s grin returned with a sort of ferocity that she hadn’t yet witnessed. 

When she finally finished with her proposal, Megatron studied her for a long moment. Then he threw back his head and laughed. It was deep, powerful laugh, and Amira felt her heart doing somersaults in her chest. It took a minute for his laughter to die down, and once it had, Megatron leaned forward and scooped her up. She scrambled to keep her laptop from toppling to the tabletop below as he lifted her to eye level.

“Truly,” Megatron chuckled, “You are a Decepticon.” Pure elation flooded her entire body and Amira felt her cheeks aching with the force of a wide, teeth-baring smile. Her heart was pounding in her ribcage as she both heard and felt the rumble of Megatron’s booming laughter. She did her best to sit up within his claws and raised her chin high.

“Thank you, Lord Megatron,” she replied. She tried to keep her tone professional, but some of her joy still managed to bleed in. 

Megatron paid it no mind though, it seemed. He simply grinned widely down at her and said “Well done, Amira.”

Amira felt like she was experiencing the most amazing high ever, and she knew that she was already addicted.

 

* * *

 

Over the next few weeks, Amira slowly fell back into her routine. She had to adjust parts of her schedule, given her injury, but for the most part, everything was about the same. She’d decided to stop doing her workouts until her ankle was healed, and she had to account for things like her inability to use her hands when she was walking, but she managed.

Knock Out was back to his old self after a day or two of snapping at her. He resumed his usual preening and his sarcasm was back down to normal levels - or what was normal for him, anyways. 

She and Breakdown resumed their morning and afternoon routine of going to the mess hall together. He still poked fun at her whenever they were out and about, but she began to notice that the teasing seemingly stopped for the most part whenever they were alone. Breakdown was much more open and honest than before, and just overall more genuine. He’d also started to call her ‘bitlet’ when they were alone. She didn’t know exactly what it meant, but she guessed that it was a term of endearment of some kind.

Margaret had been scarce at first. Amira had hoped that after their reunion the day after her return, things would go back to normal. But after their initial discussion, she didn’t see or hear from the Vehicon for six days. It wasn’t until Amira had finally caved and sent them a questioning text message that she even knew if Margaret was still okay. Margaret had apologized for their silence, and their explanation and resulting invitation drove away any ill will she might have held towards them.

 

* * *

 

She was sitting on Breakdown’s shoulder, watching as all of the squadron leaders of the fallen lined up along the opposite wall. She hadn’t really known what to expect when she’d been invited to the funeral rite the Vehicons held for the soldiers who went offline. She’d tried asking Knock Out, but he’d been no help whatsoever. Apparently, he’d never actually been to one of the rites, deeming them not worth his time. 

Breakdown, however, had been to almost every single one since he’d come aboard the Nemesis. She’d asked him to explain it to her as they made their way down to one of the lower hangers of the ship.

Turns out, there was a lot of ceremonial fluff to it all. 

Amira watched as another Vehicon came forward to the first squadron leader in the line and held out a cube of energon. They accepted the cube with a nod and looked up at the crowd. 

* * *

 

“They usually start off by naming off everyone who’s offline. They have the fallen’s squadron leaders line up in order of number of soldiers offlined, and have a squadron leader with either no casualties that month, or the least amount, go down the line with a cube of high-grade. The kind of high-grade that Vehicons can almost never get their servos on.”

 

* * *

 

“Squadron Omega-223 returns H-1704 or Hilda, H-0640 or Howard, and B-4621 or Barney, to the Well of Allsparks,” the leader declared before taking a minute sip and returning the cube. The Vehicon moved on to the next leader, and the process began again until they reached the end of the line-up. Amira felt her stomach turn as she heard Margaret’s leader call out Joey’s name. By the time they go to the end of the line, the last leader called out over twenty names. 

 

* * *

 

“Everyone calls out the names and takes a drink to honor those who fell under their command. There’s no set amount, but the trick is to have at least half a cube left by the time everyone has gone.”

 

* * *

 

The Vehicon who had brought the energon cube walked up to the center of the room, and the crowd parted for them. In the center of the hangar was a series of lifted and warped notches. Each one was about the size of a standard-class Vehicon’s hand, and they were all off-colored with different shades of grey and blue. The Vehicon performing the ceremony stopped before the last raised notch and raised the energon cube high - the contents only about half-empty - so that all who were gathered could see. 

“We  commend your spark to the Allspark, and the Allspark is one spark, and the one spark is your spark, and in this way we are all connected.” The Vehicon lifted the cube a bit higher before turning it over, spilling its remnants all over the fresh notch.

 

* * *

 

“Then the mech who was passing around the cube gives the final send off to the fallen sparks. They make all these bumps in the floor of the ship they served on, and they make it just big enough that you can put your servo on it as a way to pay respects. But anyways, the mech gives the final send off, and then they pour the high-grade all over the fresh bump. I was told it’s so that ‘the fallen can have one last drink before returning to the Allspark.’

“They’ll leave it like that for a day or so before cleaning it off. By then, the high-grade will have eaten away at some of the metal, since it’s still fresh from being raised like that, making that bump special for that particular batch of soldiers. So that after they’re gone, you can still tell them apart.”

 

* * *

 

The Vehicon lowered the now empty cube before turning back towards the line of squadron leaders. They brought their other hand up over their chest, where their spark was, and squared their shoulders. The gathered mechs mimicked the salute, and even Amira found herself placing her hand over her heart.

“Til all are one,” they said quietly.

“Til all are one,” the crowd echoed back. Amira bowed her head, staring down at her lap in thought.

After a moment, she murmured out a soft “Til all are one.” 

 

* * *

 

“It’s all very…”

“Spiritual?”

“I was going to say doctrinal. Are all Cybertronians this religious?”

“Oh, hell no. Religion was what the Senate used to keep functionalism going for so long. ‘If Primus would have wanted you to be a doctor, he would have shaped you into one’ or some scrap like that. A lot of Cons are atheists.”

“So why have so much stuff about this ‘Well of Allsparks?’ Wouldn’t it make more sense to say something about them falling in the line of duty or something?”

“It’s not overly-religious. They don’t even mention Primus. But, from what I’ve been told by them, the Vehicons don’t like to mention the war during the rite because it’s already everything to them. Literally. Vehicons were created by Shockwave as warriors. They were literally  _ made _ for war. They like to have at least one bit of themselves that they don’t dedicate to the cause.”

“Even though that bit is their own funerals?”

“I didn’t say it really made any sense. But it makes them happy. And they still give everything they’ve got to keep fighting, so it’s not like they’re hurting anybody.”

“Anything else, then?”

“Well, they have a moment of silence, same as humans do.”

“And then?”

“Then they drink and remember the fallen.”

 

* * *

 

Amira wasn’t sure what to do as the crowd began to break up inside the hanger. A couple mechs came in with a serving of rations for all who had gathered and began to pass them out. Breakdown had accepted his gladly and began talking to one of the squadron leaders who’d been standing around the middle of the line. 

Amira had done her best to be polite as she sat quietly on Breakdown’s shoulder, but had been relieved when Margaret approached and offered to take her for a bit. She hadn’t been too thrilled on the exact wording - “I can take her off your servos for a cycle if you’d like, sir.” - but she was still happy to no longer be listening to the insufferable small talk between Breakdown and a complete stranger. 

“I would have come to see you sooner, but I was put in charge of keeping my squad in line while our leader took part in the rite.” 

Amira offered a small smile up at them. “It’s all right,” she assured them as Margaret stepped around two soldiers who were deep in conversation.

“Your appearance is different today,” Margaret stated curiously. Amira glanced down at herself. She’d slipped on a simple black dress that ended just above her knees that Knock Out had insisted she buy, along with simple black flats. Her usual ponytail was replaced with a bun, and she wore a simple black choker.

“Yeah, I, uh, I didn’t know exactly what to wear to an alien funeral, so I just stuck with what humans do. It’s customary to wear all black and wear something a bit fancier than usual.” Margaret stared at her for a moment, and Amira shifted in their hand as her nerves grew. 

“It is nice,” they finally said before stepping out of the hanger. Amira glanced back at the exit before looking up at her friend with a raised brow.

“Where exactly are we going?”

“Oh! Yes, I should probably explain.” Margaret paused and moved to the side of the hallway to stay out of the way of oncoming traffic. “The rest of my squad didn’t really want to stay around to mingle after the rite, so we decided to have an impromptu vid night. It’s one of the only times that we all are together outside of battle, so we thought it would be a nice way to remember those we lost.”

It wasn’t a terrible idea, she thought. She certainly preferred watching movies over forced small talk. 

“So, we’re going to meet up with your squad?”

“In a klik. I’m taking you back to your quarters so you can retrieve the data slug you put all those documentaries on.” They shrugged as they said “I did promise to bring something different the next time we all met up.”

 

* * *

 

Amira ran her hands through her hair for what felt like the millionth time since she’d grabbed the thumb drive and changed into more casual clothes. Margaret had offered to carry her to the recreation room since there were no walkways that went that far. She hadn’t been too happy with being carried so much, but she’d allowed it since she’d had a feeling that Margaret was mostly offering as a distraction for themself.

She’d helped them keep their mind off of the funeral by telling them a bit about the documentaries she’d selected. She’d been able to fit three Blue Planet films and the first three seasons of Ancient Aliens onto the thumb drive. Margaret had been interested when she explained that one of the Blue Planet films focused on deep sea creatures, but they’d been absolutely giddy when she’d started explaining Ancient Aliens. 

By the time they’d arrived to the recreation room, Margaret was almost giddy with excitement. Amira couldn’t help but smile at their enthusiasm. It was nice to see her friend in such good spirits after everything that had happened in the last month. Her smile remained as Margaret passed through the entrance to the recreation room and was greeted by a gathered group of Vehicons. 

“Hey! What kept you?” one of them said as Margaret approached, holding Amira close. 

“I told you I needed to collect the data slug,” they chided whoever had spoken.

“And the human, it seems.” That came from one of the Vehicons that was sitting at a small table. Amira met the bright light of their visor, puffing out her chest in a show of fortitude. 

“Yes, I did.” Margaret’s tone held a silent reprimand in it. They held out their hands, offering every soldier gathered a proper view of her. “Mechs, this is Amira. She’s the human agent who’s studying under Commander Soundwave. She’s currently working on an assignment for Lord Megatron that included watching a new kind of human vid called a documentary.”

A sudden staticy feeling filled the air around Amira as every eye in the room was suddenly on her. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see her flyaways starting to stand up from the static charge she was gathering from the onslaught of scans. Desperate to break the silence, she raised one hand in a slight wave.

“Hi.” 

“It’s really squishy looking,” one voice said.

“And small,” someone agreed.

“Why exactly is it here?” asked another.

“Are we going to be getting more of them?”

“Primus, I hope not. They’re so slimy.”

“ _ This _ is what you were making a fuss over after the attack, Margaret?”

“Can I pet it?” A Vehicon stepped forward then, a hand reaching out towards her. Amira was instantly on guard, sitting up straighter as she glared at the outstretched hand.

“Try it and you lose your finger,” she snapped. The Vehicon stopped, staring at her and tilting their head with confusion. 

Margaret pulled Amira back towards their chest as they quickly explained, “Humans don’t really like it when strangers pet them. Amira especially doesn’t like it. You’re better off leaving her be.”

There was a snort of amusement from within the crowd. “Yeah, George. Didn’t you pay attention to the other vids we watched?”

Margaret seemed to relax at the others’ acceptance of the explanation and stepped around the crowd to head towards a large screen.

“Well, then,” they said as they looked back towards their squad, “Who’s ready for vid night?”

* * *

 

Breakdown quietly transformed back into his root-mode once he was through the groundbridge. He plucked his energon reader from his subspace and switched it on. Sure enough, the device began to emit a low beeping noise. He hummed to himself before comming through to the Nemesis.

“Breakdown to Nemesis. I’ve picked up the energon signal and am following it now. I’ll comm once I have optics on the deposit.” He received a beep of confirmation before switching off his mic. He let out a huff as he began to follow the scanner into an abandoned human settlement. 

He’d jumped on the opportunity to leave the ship for few cycles when Soundwave had picked up on a possible energon deposit somewhere the humans called “Russia”. He needed to get out for a bit. The Vehicon rites always seemed to put him in a bit of a mood. 

He passed dilapidated buildings and rusting metal structures as he followed the droning beep of the energon scanner. His steps sounded thunderous in the unnerving silence of the town. The faint whistle of wind seemed to be the only sound that broke up the silence when Breakdown would stop to get a hold of his surroundings. His olfactory sensors filled with the smell of fresh-turned earth under his pedes, along with the metallic stench of the surrounding buildings. 

He grimaced as he took another turn. He’d need to be quick finding this energon source so he could take a drive to drive the stale scent from his systems. He had just past another group of tall buildings when a series of thuds drew his attention. It sounded like pedesteps, Breakdown realized as he crouched down behind another large building for cover. The step drew closer and Breakdown quickly put away his energon scanner in favor of wielding his trusty hammer. 

“I read you, Ratch. I don’t see anything yet, but I’ll keep looking. I’ll check in once I find something.” Breakdown’s spark pulsed at the familiar voice. He leaned forward slightly to peek around the building, finding Bulkhead strolling around a small fountain as he tried to get a read on his own energon scanner.

This was  _ exactly _ the kind of distraction Breakdown needed. With an easy grin, Breakdown stepped out from behind the building and charged the Autobot. His thundering pedesteps alerted Bulkhead too late as Breakdown sent his hammer smashing into the other’s faceplate. Bulkhead let out a cry of pain as he stumbled back, but Breakdown didn’t give him any time to recover. 

He advanced, bringing the hammer down again and again as he forced Bulkhead further and further back until he collided into a nearby building. Bulkhead groaned as he stumbled to his pedes once more, glaring up at Breakdown.

“Bulkhead! Imagine, you and I bumping into each other in the middle of nowhere while tracking a stray energon signal,” he hummed as he grinned down at the Wrecker.

“Yeah, Breakdown” Bulkhead grunted as he held up his fists, “It must be your lucky day!” He charged, but Breakdown was ready. He advanced, colliding with the Autobot and grappling servos with him. They let out growls and grunts as each bot tried to out muscle the other.

“Where’s your pet human?” Breakdown teased, that easy grin never leaving his face. “How about once I finish with you, I pay her a visit?” He leaned in. “Maybe I’ll bring my own along so they can have a little playdate.”

He saw Bulkhead’s optics contract into tiny pinpricks of blue fury as he let out a fierce battle cry. He pushed forward, knocking Breakdown off balance as he suddenly moved to tackle his middle, sending both mechs crashing to the ground. Breakdown let that grin return as he peered up at his rival.

“So, the Wrecker’s got a soft spot,” he jeered. Bulkhead cried out in rage as he shifted one of his servos into a battering ram and brought it down. Breakdown shoved himself off in a roll to the side, barely missing the blow. He heard the crash and smelled more fresh-turned earth as Bulkhead retracted his arm. 

So, Bulk wanted to use his servo upgrades? He was more than happy to oblige.

He quickly ejected one of his hammers again and, after a starting spin, slammed the head into Bulkhead’s faceplates, sending the Autobots flying with a ringing sound. Breakdown’s spark flickered with eager joy as he watched Bulkhead land with a crash. His smirk widened when he saw that the other didn’t get back up.

He advanced once again, stepping over his opponent and tapping the head of his hammer against Bulkhead’s helm. In that moment, he almost wished he could take a processor image to keep as a souvenir. Bulkhead groaned as he fought to keep his optics open.

“As much as I’ll miss our little reunions,” Breakdown hummed, “Hammer time.” He straightened up as he raised his hammer, aiming straight for Bulkhead’s helm.

White and blue blinded Breakdown suddenly before the pain hit a nanoklik later. White hot fire ran along his frame as electricity overloaded his circuitry. With a pained moan, Breakdown collapsed to the ground with a resounding thud. He fought to keep his optics open, but the warnings popping up in his processor were quickly drawing him into stasis.

Breakdown heard the rumble of helicopter engines.

And then he knew no more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can you believe it?!
> 
>  
> 
> Amira in a dress? What madness have we descended to?
> 
> I made a playlist for Amira that I listen to whenever I'm writing her. Here it is! - https://soundcloud.com/geminiwishes/sets/amira  
> Enjoy! ^-^


	15. Hold Nothing Back

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some serious TW for this chapter.
> 
> Mentioned racism, pedophilia, and suicide.
> 
> It's not descriptive, but it's heavily implied. Take care of yourselves, guys <3
> 
> -
> 
> Like what you see? Come check out my Tumblr and shoot me a message! I love hearing from you guys!
> 
> https://www.google.com/url?sa=t&source=web&rct=j&url=http://geminiwishes.tumblr.com/&ved=2ahUKEwjI2ePR0rniAhVMeawKHXCYB18QFjAAegQICBAC&usg=AOvVaw24zaMp81HoMPcDZIslJis9

Could Cybertronians wheeze? She was pretty sure they could. That had to be what she was hearing, Amira thought as she pressed her lips together to suppress a smile, watching a gaggle of Vehicons fall over themselves in gut-wrenching hysterics. 

They’d been watching an episode of Ancient Aliens about supposed ancient weaponry. Apparently, none of Margaret’s crewmates had taken the time to learn anything about ancient human history, so they were very interested in the history displayed on the screen. She’d seen more than a handful of soldiers leaning forward slightly, hanging on every word the narrator said.

And then they started actually listening to the conspiracy theories. They joked at first, but when the narrator introduced the theory that the Wall of Jericho had actually been destroyed by sonic waves that were produced by simple rams horns, they’d all lost it. Apparently, they found the idea that humans could wield something as complex and dangerous as soundwave technology absolutely hilarious. Amira could understand - the theory was more than just a bit of a reach - but even she didn’t think it was _that_ funny.

Cultural differences, she supposed.

“O-Oh Primus, I’m gonna burst a tube!” one of the soldiers cackled as they shook with the force of their laughter. Two other Vehicons were leaning against each other for balance as they laughed at the visuals on the screen. Similar scenes of merriment surrounded them as the episode played on. Amira glanced up at Margaret with a smirk.

“So, I’d say they like it,” she mused out loud. Margaret glanced away from the screen and nodded vigorously. 

“Definitely. This is even better than you described it would be.” They managed to keep their composure, but Amira could hear the gleeful lilt in their tone. 

“Is it really that funny?” she asked as she glanced back at the others.

“You have no idea,” Margaret hummed with amusement. 

Amira wanted to push for more, but a buzzing noise stole away her words. She plucked her phone out of her pocket and unlocked it. She had another zip file from Soundwave, along with an attachment. She sighed. She supposed she’d need to work on whatever this was once Margaret took her back to the medbay.

Something slammed down on the tabletop she was sitting on, making her teeth rattle and her heart leap up into her throat. Her eyes shot up to the Vehicon responsible for the loud noise.

“Primus, please tell me you have more of these!” the soldier exclaimed, their delight apparent in both their tone and body language. Amira had to take a moment for her brain to process the other’s question and for her heart to descend back into her chest.

“Uh, yeah. Yeah, there’s like, seven seasons available? Maybe eight? I think it’s still going, but I’m not sure.”

“Oh, man. Julie’s gonna blow a gasket,” the soldier snickered before turning their head back towards the group. “Hey, Julie! There’s tons more!”

“Frag yes!” someone shouted, presumably Julie. The Vehicon looked back down at Amira.

“Any chance you know where we can find them?”

“Streaming services, usually. But I’m sure you can find them online somewhere too.”

“Like Netfish or Hoo-hoo?”

“...Netflix and Hulu?”

“Yeah! That’s what I meant!”

“You know about Netflix and Hulu?”

“Yeah! One of our techies figured out how to make accounts and has them all tied together so everyone can watch anything they want.”

Amira wasn’t sure what to say. She knew that Knock Out had mentioned that they’d been on Earth for a while, and that they’d been subjected to radio signals from all over the globe ever since they’d entered Earth’s airspace. She hadn’t really thought about the Decepticons knowing about aspects of human culture and economics. She could see now that was a failure on her part, but it was still strange. Sure, Margaret asked a lot of questions, but their curiosity pertained mostly to the natural sciences and human history. 

Next thing you know, they’re going to try and start quoting memes. 

Amira wasn’t sure if she could handle that.

“Well, yes. You can use one of those. I’m pretty sure Ancient Aliens is on Hulu. You should have no trouble finding it.” The Vehicon leaned in a tad closer, their shadow creeping near.

“You know, you’re not half-bad for an organic,” they said. “Name’s S-4219, but you can just call me Stanley.” They held out a single finger towards her, and Amira subconsciously backed away. The finger stopped advancing, but didn’t pull away. “I’ve seen that humans usually grasp servos as a sign of greeting, but yours are a bit too small for mine,” Stanley said, wiggling their finger to emphasize their point.

“I’m not really one for shaking hands,” she said with a frown.

“Guess it’s a good thing I’m offering a digit then, huh?” Their cheerful insistent nature was irritating, Amira thought as she stared at the single sharp-tipped finger held before her. She could easily slap it away to let this Vehicon and all the others know that she didn’t take kindly to anybody trying to touch her. 

But these soldiers already expected that kind of behavior from the officers. Given all the time she spent in the medbay, they probably suspected that she would follow along with it as well. Breakdown’s earlier words echoed in her head.

‘You talk to ‘em. You actually listen to what they have to say, and you’re polite to ‘em.’ 

She didn’t need to give anyone on the ship any reason not to trust her.

Swallowing her pride, Amira reached out and placed her hand atop the sharp tip of Stanley’s finger, wrapping her thumb slightly around the curve of it. She saw Stanley’s shoulders stiffen with glee as they slowly wiggled their finger up and down in an imitation of a handshake. She allowed it for three pumps before letting go and placing her hands back in her lap.

She heard the creak of shifting metal behind her, and could practically feel Margaret’s gaze on her as she kept her eyes on Stanley.

“Are we doing proper introductions now?” another soldier asked as they came over to the table. Stanley looked up at the other in greeting and scooted to the side to allow the newcomer more room. They leaned down to meet Amira’s eyes and gave her a little nod. “Name’s Jose.” 

Despite the perks being friendly with the Vehicons would allow her, Amira couldn’t help but wish they weren’t so casual when speaking with her. She almost preferred when they were all scared of her.

“It’s good to finally meet you,” Jose said, “I’m a fan of your work, you know.” 

Amira frowned. “My what?”

Another buzz sounded from her phone, distracting her from whatever the soldier said next. It was another attachment from Soundwave. Odd, she thought. He usually included everything he needed to send her in one zip folder. Maybe this was something else? She selected the attachment, opening up a jpeg file. 

When the file loaded up, it was revealed to be what looked to be a picture of Soundwave’s minicon. The metal bird was perched on what Amira guessed was Soundwave’s console, her wings tucked in and her chest puffed out slightly. Her head was turned to the side as a single red eye stared at the viewer. Somehow, despite the obvious differences between Lazerbeak’s physique and an Earth avian, the minicon managed to look quite proud and regal. 

Amira frowned as she stared at the image, unsure just what the picture was supposed to convey. A thought occurred to her, and Amira pulled up the other file from earlier. The zip file itself wasn’t anything out of the usual - it was another collection of coding lessons she would be expected to review and complete promptly. 

But the attachment, however, only provided another shot of Lazerbeak. This one was taken from a different angle, in a different room. Lazerbeak was curled up on a desk of sorts, her head tucked in against one of her wings in a strange interpretation of sleep. 

It was… almost cute. In a weird, alien bird sort of way.

But why was Soundwave sending her photos of his minicon?

“Is that Lazerbeak?” 

Amira looked over her shoulder to glare at Jose, who had stepped around the table to snoop at whatever she’d been doing on her phone. She was starting to question if this level of immaturity and excitability was common amongst the Vehicons, or if she was just that unlucky.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen that minicon look so relaxed,” Jose hummed. 

“Do you mind?” Amira snapped at him as she hid her phone against her chest, away from prying eyes. 

“You looked confused about something, and I got curious.” They glanced down at the phone again, despite the fact they could no longer see the photo. “It’s not a bad reference though. I think the lieutenant would really like it.”

“What are you talking about?” This soldier was making absolutely no sense. 

“I’m just agreeing with you? It’ll make a good piece if you decide to use it, is all.” 

“That didn’t answer my question.” She was trying her best, but her patience was running thin faster than she would have liked. 

“He’s talking about your art,” Margaret offered by way of explanation. Amira stared up at them, her brow furrowed with confusion. 

“My art?”

“Yeah!” Jose exclaimed, seemingly relieved to have someone else taking his side. “Lieutenant Soundwave probably saw your stuff and wanted to make a request. Makes sense that he’d want it to be something with Lazerbeak.” 

“But…” Amira looked down at the photo again, “Why would he want me to draw anything? I didn’t think he even knew I drew in my free time.”

“Well, he is head of communications. He monitors everything on the ship, including all of the public channels. He can see your channel just as easily as the rest of us can.”

“My channel?” Her irritation was slowly slipping away, replaced with genuine confusion. “What channel?”

“Your art channel?” Now Jose was starting to sound confused. “The one you posted all those drawings to a few mega-cycles ago?”

“I didn’t post my drawings anywhere.”

“Actually,” Margaret said with a hint of meekness, “You did.” They brought their wrist forward, flicking something with one of their fingers before a hologram flickered to life. An image appeared, and Amira felt her chest tighten at the familiar sight. It was a messy sketch she’d done only a day or so ago of Knock Out. He was standing with his back to the viewer, intently focused on something in front of him. His hips was jutting out to the side in a casual pose that she couldn’t help but sketch out. 

But how had it gotten on a public channel?

“How-?”

“It appeared a few days ago,” Margaret explained, “A default public channel was opened and your drawings were posted one by one. There were a lot of them at first, but they started thinning out after a few cycles. I assumed you’d decided to share your work with the rest of the crew, since you seemed to enjoy using all of us as models so much.” As if to further emphasize their point, Margaret flicked a finger over the image, swiping it away to show off another drawing. This one was a bit older - a study of a Vehicon’s arm.

Amira’s heart thumped against her rib cage as she began to piece together what had happened.

A few days ago, she’d been looking through some of her older sketches, insearch of one drawing in particular she’d done of Breakdown. It had taken her almost an hour and she’d torn her room apart before she’d finally found the damn thing. 

As a result, she’d decided to organize and file all of her art. 

It seemed like a good idea. She had gathered every scrap of paper she had, including all the Polaroid photos she’d taken of all the murals she’d done in the past, and began the painstaking task of photographing, cropping, and labeling all of them onto a file on her laptop. 

Her phone’s camera wouldn’t focus, and she didn’t even try to attempt using her laptop, so she’d taken all of her photos with her tablet. She’d cropped them all and saved back-ups on the device before transferring copies to her laptop for future use.

She’d used her tablet. The only device she owned that had direct access to the Decepticon databases. The only thing she ever even used it for was to read and submit assignments from Soundwave.

She must have accidentally saved all of her photos to a public channel instead of a private file like she’d thought she had.

As realization began to dawn on her, Amira felt her face begin to heat. 

She’d been posting all of her art publicly. 

_All of it._

Everyone with access to the Decepticon network could see it.

Well, _fuck_.

Amira felt her shoulders tense as she slowly curled in on herself slightly with embarrassment. She tried to not make her horror so readable, but it was becoming harder and harder to try and seem indifferent about it. 

She was absolutely _mortified._

Sure, she had a few good pieces, but for the most part, her drawings were messy and unfinished. And she’d taken photos of everything.

Including the photos of her murals.

And the drawings she done before she’d run into the Decepticons. _Personal_ drawings.

Margaret, bless their soul, seemed to pick up on Amira’s discomfort. The holograms of her work disappeared with another flick of their wrist and their hand came down to shield her from curious gazes. Amira peered up at them, her tense expression silently begging them to help her. Without another word, Margaret obliged, bringing their other hand out to help her settling into their palm. Sure she was secure, Margaret stood up from the table - much to Jose and Stanley’s irritation. They gave their teammates a vague excuse before quickly retreating through the main entrance, holding Amira close. 

They waited until they were two corridors away before finally slowing down and looking down at their friend. “Are you alright?”

“Physically? Yes,” Amira answered before covering her face with her hands. “Fuck, I feel so stupid. How the hell did I not realize I was posting them?!”

“If it helps, I’ve been hearing nothing but compliments whenever your work is brought up. I’d say you have a few fans, if Jose is anything to go by.” 

Amira groaned as she tangled her fingers in her hair and pulled. The burn on her scalp did little to distract her from her dismay. She wanted to curl up under a rock and stay there forever. How was she ever going to face any of the officers again? Had Breakdown and Knock Out seen the channel already? Or Starscream? Or - stars forbid - _Megatron?_ She groaned involuntarily as she wrapped her arms around her head to try and hide away from her shame.

“It’s really not that bad,” Margaret assured her, chuckling slightly as they slowed to a more leisurely pace. 

“Easy for you to say!” she snapped up at them before burying her head again. “No one’s ever going to take me seriously now.”

“Amira, you’re a human. I doubt any of the crew was taking you seriously before.”

She peeked out of her hands to glare up at them. “Not. Helping.” Margaret only shrugged before turning another corner.

“You know,” they said after a moment, “I’ve been meaning to ask you something about those drawings.” Amira didn’t answer them, instead choosing to slowly lower her arms to see them more clearly. They went on. “I was wondering about one of the subjects you did.”

“Yeah?”

“Well, I was going through a few of your older pieces,” Amira’s embarrassed groan interrupted them for only a moment, “Oh, hush. They’re fine. But anyways, I noticed that there’s this one person you seem to draw a lot.” They held up their wrist again and another holographic image appeared. Amira stared at the drawing for a minute or so, going quiet as she took in the familiar graphite sketch. 

A young boy was sitting down at a third-quarter angle from the viewer, a miniature airplane in his hands. He was smiling brightly, his eyes crinkling and sparkling with joy. A mess of freckles peppered his face, gathering mostly around his nose and cheekbones. Curly, dark hair that went just past his ears was swept to the back, like someone had tried to messily run their fingers through it in an effort to detangle it. He wore a too-large t-shirt and shorts with a drawstring around the waistband. Simple socks covered his feet, with one of them pulled up higher than the other. The sketch looked like a snippet in time of a child’s playtime.

Finally, Amira looked away from the image, her lips pursed together in a tight frown.

“So?”

“So, who are they?” Margaret flipped through a few more images. “You don’t usually like drawing humans, and whenever you do, you tend to do someone different every time. So why this one? Is it someone you know?”

Amira was quiet for a long moment.

“Yes, he is.”

Margaret seemed just as surprised at Amira was at her honest answer. They tilted their head to the side slightly. “Who is he?”

“...His name is Lucas.” Amira glanced back at the pulled up sketch. “He’s my brother.”

“I didn’t know you had a brother.”

“I… don’t like to talk about it. It’s private.”

Margaret hummed in understanding and continued down the hallway in silence. Another moment passed before they asked, “Would it be alright if I asked after him?”

Amira debated simply brushing the question aside. She knew that if she did, Margaret wouldn’t try to probe any further. But they would know she was hiding something. And the last thing she needed was for them to start snooping around to try and find answers that way. No, it was better if she just told them herself.

And there was a small part of her that wanted to tell them. She trusted Margaret. Despite the reputation Decepticons had, she knew deep down that they would never use this information against her.

“It’s a bit of a long story,” she said, hoping that they would lose interest. She should have known better.

Margaret turned down a different hallway, away from the medbay. “I’m off for a few more cycles.”

No getting out of it then.

 

* * *

 

Margaret brought her to a nearby hangar. There were no other soldiers around. Only a few crates and three rows of raised notches in the middle of the floor. They’d shut off the hologram once again, much to her eternal thanks. She wasn’t sure if she’d be able to hold herself together if she had to look at Lucas’ face while she told this story.

Margaret leaned against the wall, looking down at her expectantly. And Amira felt her chest fill with ice. 

Where was she supposed to start? Where could she start? Explaining Lucas was never easy. It was why she avoided talking about it all together. But now that she’d agreed to, she was at a complete loss. 

Sensing her unease, Margaret tried to help her along. “You don’t usually talk about your family.” 

“Because there isn’t really anything to talk about,” she replied. She began to pick at her nails, pushing back her cuticles as she fought to piece together the right words. She let out a deep breath. “Lucas is my half-brother, and the only real family I have left.”

Margaret tilted their head in silent question, so she began.

“My mother was a child bride from Sudan. She was only sixteen when she got pregnant with me.” 

She was used to the shock and disgust that usually came from that little tidbit. Every time she’d had to explain her origin to a school counselor or a social worker, they’d always give her this look of disapproval or pity. Child marriage usually tended to make most adults uncomfortable.

“And that is… not normal?” Margaret inquired. 

“No. Not at all.” Amira shook her head before going on. “When she learned that I was coming, she knew she couldn’t stay with my father. So, she got him absolutely wasted and ran to Giza. She applied for asylum to America and had me while she was waiting for her visa to be approved.” She grimaced. “She had to get permission to seek safety from her abuser. I was three years old by the time she finally managed to get us on a plane to Virginia.”

She ran out of cuticles to push back, so she started scraping underneath her nails.

“She got a job as a waitress at this shitty diner next to a trailer park and rented one of the smaller trailers from one of the locals.” 

She had vague memories of those early years. Even as a small child, Amira had known that the trailer that made up her world was tiny. Insignificant. The carpet had been an ugly brown, with undefinable stains scattered around that smelled unpleasant. The couch pullout had creaked horribly whenever she bounced or simply sat on it. And the two yellow light bulbs that lit the entire thing made her head hurt to look at for too long.

She remembered how often she would have to sit in that diner when her mother couldn’t find someone to watch her. She would be given a few spare paper place mats and a mess of crayons and told to stay put while her mother was put to work. 

She didn’t understand until years later just how awful both the staff and the customers treated her. Amira had been young enough that she’d picked up English as her first language. Her mother hadn’t been so lucky. Her accent had been so thick in those early years - so thick that it would frustrate the customers. Her manager had mocked her for it countless times, even going so far as to speak slowly to Amira about the proper ‘American way’ to speak. 

She felt her stomach roil with rage at the way her mother would look in those moments.

“It was hell. She did her best to provide for the both of us, but no one made it easy for her. I remember when I started going to school. When I would bring home all the materials I was given to learn to read, she would study them with me to practice her English.” She swallowed back the growing lump in her throat. “She managed to get the hang of it after a while, and she landed a job as a receptionist at a hospital after a few years.”

She could still picture her mother’s tearful cheering when she’d hung up the phone after she’d been told she’d gotten the job. She and Amira had celebrated with a slice of Boston creme pie.

“It was at that job that she had met my step-father. They fell in love and got married.” 

She’d been so shy the first time her mother had introduced her to Hank. He’d been a perfect gentleman, shaking her hand and talking to her with the same respect that he did her mother. He’d even bring Amira her own little bouquet whenever he brought her mother flowers. He’d treated her mother like a queen and Amira had never seen her mother so happy as when she was with Hank.

“We moved into an apartment and Lucas came a few years later.” 

She’d been eight when Lucas was born. She’d been so mad that neither of her parents would let her hold him by herself. They insisted that it wasn’t the same as one of her baby dolls. But even with her parents helping her hold him, Amira remembered how enraptured she’d been when she’d felt her baby brother in her arms. She was only eight years old, but she’d decided in that moment that she was going to protect him with everything she had. 

“So why do you not like talking about him?” Margaret asked. “Did something happen to him?”

“Yes and no. It’s complicated.”

This part was always hard. Amira took a deep breath before continuing.

“When I was eleven, my step-father died in a car accident. A drunk driver. They told us he’d been killed instantly.” 

That night was foggy, but she had faint recollections of flashing red and blue lights. And wailing.

“It destroyed my mother. The man she loved was gone. And now she was all alone again, with two little kids and an income that wouldn’t cover our expenses anymore. And I guess it was too much for her.” She swallowed once. Twice. “She commited suicide a few months later. We lived on the seventh floor. We had a balcony - so she jumped.”

Amira had come home from school that day to find Lucas crying in his crib. She’d changed him before looking for her mother. She’d looked all over the apartment. 

And then she’d noticed that the balcony door was open.

She wished she’d never gone out there to look. 

She still saw it sometimes when she closed her eyes.

“When-When children lose both of their parents, they’re taken into the custody of the state. The local government either watches us or finds us another place to live. So they put me and Lucas in an orphanage. It’s basically this big house they put kids who don’t have parents.”

Amira had clung to Lucas for almost the entire process. As young as he was, Lucas had seemed to sense his sister’s distress and had remained quiet, choosing to nap in her arms. She’d buried her face into his curly black hair whenever she’d felt the tears coming back. She didn’t want to cry in front of the policemen or the social worker. She had to be a big kid. 

“We lived there for two years, I think. It all kind of blends together. But we stayed together.” She pushed one of her nails under another and kept picking. “And then a family came in and said they wanted to foster Lucas.” The lump in her throat kept coming back. “But they didn’t want me.”

She’d fought so hard to stay with him. She’d begged the couple who wanted him to take her too. But they’d told her that they already had a daughter, and they wanted to keep the number of children even. She didn’t give up though.

It was while she was at school that they came by and took him. 

She didn’t even get to say goodbye.

“They took him and I had to stay. But then they found a foster family that was willing to take me in.” She glanced up at Margaret and quickly explained, “A foster family is a family that takes care of children temporarily until someone decides to adopt them.”

She recalled how happy the husband and wife had looked at her when she’d come into the lobby of the orphanage with her bags. Like she was the start of a new chapter in their lives. 

She’d only felt her own come crashing down.

“I was passed around for a few years between families. Some of them were fine, but most of them were… unpleasant.”

Seven foster homes in two years. By the time she’d gotten to the fourth, she’d stopped unpacking her bags. There was no point in trying to make herself at home.

“When I was about to turn sixteen, I was put with a single father who had two boys. He was so angry that I was a girl and I couldn’t understand why.”

She found out soon enough.

“I ran away before… before anything bad happened. At that point, I decided to stick it out on my own.” 

She’d almost been caught those first few months. She’d had to stay away from homeless shelters and soup kitchens for almost a year. 

“I got a job at this convenience store that didn’t ask too many questions and let me work in the back. And I started saving every penny I had.” She met Margaret’s eye then. “You see, when you’re under eighteen, you’re seen as a child of the state. So I had to age out of the system first before I could do anything about Lucas. Once I was eighteen, I wouldn’t technically be a runaway anymore, and I could apply for adoption.

“So I saved up every single cent until the day I turned eighteen. I found a cheap apartment and put down the first three months rent, and a week later, I marched down to the courthouse to adopt Lucas. Even though he was a foster child, I was a blood relative and a legal adult, so I was basically guaranteed guardianship, right?”

“Right.”

“Wrong!” Amira laughed weakly. She’d been fighting off tears so far, but the relentless sting was beginning to wane on her. They blurred her vision and threatened to fall down her cheeks. “I applied for guardianship, and they refused to let me submit my application. They went into this rant about how I hadn’t finished high school and I didn’t have a steady job. I tried to tell them that I did have a job! I showed them my paperwork and everything! And then they go into how I couldn’t be Lucas’ guardian because I had a record and I wasn’t “a suitable candidate” or some bullshit like that.” 

She could feel her tears building up.

“And then they told me that the foster family who had taken Lucas in had decided to adopt him. That even if I was a suitable candidate, it was too late for me to take him in.”

She tried her best to hold back the tears, blinking furiously to keep them at bay.

“I tried to see if they would just tell me where he lived. So that I could at least visit him. I hadn’t seen him in years. He was in school now, and I just wanted to be a part of his life.” She looked back up at Margaret with watery eyes. “And do you know what they said?”

Margaret said nothing.

“They said that because Lucas was a child of the state, his information was protected. It didn’t matter that I was his sister - they barred me from seeking him out. They said the only way I’d ever see him was if he decided to seek me out on his own, and he wouldn’t be given my information until he aged out of the system. I tried to argue, to-to explain that I needed to see him, but they-” She had to stop, biting the inside of her cheek as she took a deep breath. “They told me if I didn’t drop the issue, they would withhold my information from him if he ever asked for it.”

Margaret’s fingers curled slightly around Amira as they asked “Why not just steal the information?”

“I tried!” The tears had finally won out, slipping down her cheeks as her grief overcame her. “But there was always something that stopped me - a password-protected computer, or security cameras, or just dumb luck for the security guards!” She ground her teeth as she recalled the frustration. “I had to stop trying after I got caught. I was lucky the guard on duty wasn’t as fast as me, but they saw my face. They knew what I wanted. So I had to disappear.”

She’d stopped going to work after that. 

She’d lost the apartment soon afterwards.

And suddenly, she was back on the streets.

“I hopped on a train to Connecticut, and set up camp in Boston.” She glanced up at Margaret with tear-filled eyes. “And then I found you.”

Margaret stared at her for a moment, seeming to be mulling something over. They slowly brought up a finger towards Amira, the sharpened tip hovering near her face.

“I… don’t think I’ve ever seen you cry before,” they said softly. Amira brought up her hands to quickly wipe away the tears as she cleared her throat.

“I don’t cry often,” she replied, “And I don’t like to in front of other people.”

“I am sorry.”

“It’s fine. This always happens when I think too much about Lucas.”

“I was referring to your story,” they explained. “In the time I’ve been on Earth, I’ve learned just how much your species values close community. Losing one’s family is devastating.” Their finger moved to brush gently along one of her arms. “I am sorry you had to experience that.”

Amira blinked up at them owlishly. Surprise soon morphed into wary gratitude as she caught Margaret’s finger in her hand. She wrapped her hand around the warm metal and gently squeezed it in reassurance as she swallowed again. 

“Thank you,” she whispered. She wiped at her eyes one last time before clearing her throat again. “I, uh, I’m not usually this emotional.”

“I know,” they said. “It’s understandable that you would be upset. We all have a story, Amira. Hardly any of them happy.” Amira seemed to perk up a bit at that.

“Even you?”

“...Yes. Even me.” Margaret gently ran their finger along her arm once more before straightening their lax posture. “But that’s a story for another day. Right now, I’m sure you want to get back to your quarters.” Amira nodded in agreement as they stepped out into the corridor to head back to the medbay. 

They’d just turned another corner when Margaret said “May I ask you one more thing?”

Amira was tired. All this social interaction on top of the emotional toil of telling a friend her past had drained away almost all of her energy. But she hummed and glanced up at Margaret in silent confirmation.

“If you want to see your brother again, why not use the equipment and skills you’ve acquired here?” 

It was a good question. Amira began to pick at her sore fingertips again.

“I thought about it. Back when I first got here,” she admitted. “But then everything with the Autobots happened and…” She dug her thumb into the soft flesh of her palm, “They know who I am now. They know that I’m affiliated with you. If Prime or Fowler decide that they want to hurt me or get me out in the open, it’d be so easy for them to find out where he is. It’d be so easy for them to hurt him. I-I can’t risk that. I can’t put Lucas in that kind of danger.” She grimaced as she bit the inside of her cheek again. “For his sake, I have to stay away. For now.”

“...You are very resilient, Amira.”

She couldn’t help but smile at that. “Nah. I’m just cautious. Besides,” her hands clenched into fists, “Once the Decepticons defeat the Autobots and occupy the planet, I’ll find him. And I won’t ever let him go again.”

 

* * *

 

Amira stretched out once again as she looked away from her tablet. She’d finished that days lessons and was now filling out a report about possible Cybertronian artifacts. She hadn’t found anything of any real worth, but Megatron had wanted updates as often as she could manage, so she obeyed. 

Knock Out had been getting more and more antsy the longer the day went on. She’d ignored it for the most part. Usually, whenever he was this wound-up, he just needed to go out for a drive. She knew that any minute now, he would give in and call Breakdown to come cover his shift so he could sneak off the ship.

Unfortunately, it seemed that Knock Out was only getting more and more frantic. He’d given up fiddling with his lab equipment and had moved on to tapping away at something on a datapad while his foot bounced. The constant ‘clack-clack’ of his metal fingers against the glass was becoming more and more irritating, and Amira was dangerously low on patience at this point. 

A ping broke through the cacophonous tapping, and Amira silently thanked whoever was listening as Knock Out set the datapad aside and practically flew over to the main console. He opened up a file of some kind and read through it. Whatever it was, it must have not been what Knock Out wanted to see, because after a minute or so, he deflated and spun around, his face pinched with irritation. He strode back over to scoop up the datapad and began to tap on it again.

“Will you knock it off?” Amira snapped, setting her tablet down to glare at him. “I can’t hear myself _think_ with you making all this noise!”

“Has Breakdown messaged you at all recently?”

Amira blinked, thrown off by the question. Knock Out looked to be doing his best to seem calm, but she could see just how anxious he truly was. She pursed her lips as she shook her head. 

“No, he hasn’t. Last time I talked to him was right after the Vehicons’ funeral. He was talking to a squad leader and I left with Margaret.” Knock Out scowled slightly before looking back down at the database. 

“He’s not answering his comm. He _always_ answers when I use our personal frequency.”

“I’m sure he’s just busy. Or avoiding more paperwork. You did tell me he tries to avoid it.”

“No,” Knock Out hissed. “No, he wouldn’t just ignore me like this. Never. Something’s…” He trailed off for a moment, placing a hand over his chest, right where his spark chamber was. 

Amira frowned as she watched him closely. “Knock Out?”

“Something’s wrong,” he said quietly, more to himself than to her. Amira met his crimson red eyes.

“How can you tell?” she asked. Knock Out looked down at the hand he had placed over his chest. He tapped his clawed fingers against the polycarbonate plastic of his headlights with little clicks as his mouth fell into a thin line. 

“I can… Sometimes, conjunx endurae can sense certain things. We’re bonded in our sparks, so when one of us feels something, the other can too.”

“Okay?”

“And right now, he feels,” Knock Out’s expression twisted with frustration and confusion, “Muddled. Foggy, even. Like someone’s covered him with a heavy blanket. I can barely feel him.”

“And that’s not normal?”

“No.” Knock Out grit his teeth, running his other hand along the side of his helmet. “I need to find him.”

“He might still be with the other Vehicons. They drink after the rite. Maybe he’s just had a little too much highgrade?”

“That’s not it either,” he snapped at her, “I know how he feels when he’s overcharged - this _isn’t_ that.”

“Well, try one of the Vehicon squad leaders. One of them has to have seen him.”

Knock Out had just been about to do so when there was another ping from the main computer. He was across the room in two seconds, his fingers flying over the keys. “It’s from Soundwave,” he said out loud. 

Amira set her tablet aside and wobbled to her feet, her ankle brace hindering her balance. She waited for Knock Out to elaborate, but the medic was glued to the screen, reading whatever was on the screen. She glanced at the text and frowned at the familiar Cybertronian text. She’d only just started on her Cybertronian alphabet, but it was confusing as all hell. Their grammar was all over the place, and just like Earth, they had more than just one written language.

“Knock Out?” she finally said after he’d said nothing else. “Is it about Breakdown? What does it say?”

He said nothing as he stared at the message. She heard a quiet rattling noise as his fingers began to tremble slightly.

“Knock Out?”

“It’s Breakdown,” he said softly. Amira felt the hair on the back of her neck stand up. “He’s been captured by humans.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, yeah. We finally have some real backstory on Amira. And you guys finally learn who Lucas is! Yay! There's a lot that hasn't been mentioned yet about her past, and that's on purpose. Can't give away everything in one chapter~
> 
> I did as much research as I could when writing this chapter, and I've had Amira's backstory outlined since I first came up with this story. I wasn't sure if I wanted to go ahead and reveal her past here. I had originally planned for her to speak to Megatron first, but after some further planning, I realized that I couldn't make room in these next few chapters for that to fit and feel genuine. There are things planned in upcoming chapters that require some knowledge of her past, so you get it now.
> 
> I've been listening to "Queen of Mean" on repeat while writing lately, and I gotta say, I can't stop imagining Amira singing it. Hopefully, after this chapter, you guys can see it too :)
> 
> I made a playlist for Amira that I listen to whenever I'm writing her. Here it is! - https://soundcloud.com/geminiwishes/sets/amira  
> Enjoy! ^-^


	16. Keep It Together

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Like what you see? Come check out my Tumblr and shoot me a message! I love hearing from you guys!
> 
> https://www.google.com/url?sa=t&source=web&rct=j&url=http://geminiwishes.tumblr.com/&ved=2ahUKEwjI2ePR0rniAhVMeawKHXCYB18QFjAAegQICBAC&usg=AOvVaw24zaMp81HoMPcDZIslJis9

* * *

Amira felt her heart thumping inside of her chest as she watched Knock Out try over and over again to hail Breakdown over his comm. Her head still ached from crying earlier that day with Margaret, but now it was a constant throb, pulsing through her brain as she tried to keep herself calm. The panic was starting to rise again, and she shut her eyes as she took a breath. 

She had to be calm. If not for herself, then for Knock Out. 

She refused to think too much about that as she opened her eyes and took a small step forward. 

“Knock Out.”

“-fragging answer me!” he hissed as his fingers curled around the datapad. 

“Knock Out.”

“‘Cannot connect’, my aft! Go! Through!”

“Knock Out!”

“What!” He spun around to glare at her. She glared right back. 

“Get a hold of yourself!” she snapped. “Calling him isn’t going to work!”

“Like slag it isn’t,” he retorted before reaching up to try and hail Breakdown’s comm frequency once more. 

“If he hasn’t answered you at this point, he’s not going to.” 

“What else am I going to do then?” The ire was dripping from his voice as he glowered down at her. Amira could see the burning embers in his eyes as he took a step towards her in an attempt to scare her. But she wasn’t so easily intimidated anymore.

“Quit it. If you want to help Breakdown, you need to calm down-” Knock Out’s indignant huff did little to stop her, “-and look at the situation. We need _all_ the facts. For all we know, Megatron has already gathered troops to go get him.” Knock Out did pause at that, his expression still twisted with frustration. Amira watched his fingers tap against the heel of his palm with quiet clicks as he considered her words.

“You have too much faith in Megatron,” he finally said after a moment before hailing Breakdown again.

Amira scowled at the medic. She wanted to shout at him some more, but if Knock Out wasn’t going to take her advice, she would. Fighting wasn’t going to help Breakdown. She had to focus. She plucked out her phone and opened up the messaging app. She quickly typed out a hasty message to Soundwave, asking for any information he could provide regarding Breakdown’s whereabouts and the supposed humans who’d taken him.

That last part was still spinning around inside of her head. 

Humans? Breakdown, a Wrecker, captured by mere humans? How? 

Could they be working with the Autobots? It was certainly a possibility. The American government would definitely want to get its hands on someone like Breakdown for any number of reasons. Did the Autobots know? She pictured Optimus Prime’s confused face when she’d poked holes in the alliance he’d defended so animantly. 

Would Megatron do nothing? She didn’t want to think that he would. He spoke of equality in the speeches she’d read. Of helping his fellow mechs out of the darkness and into the light. Breakdown had been a liberated slave, given a new purpose that promised so much if he made it to the end. He’d been a reliable soldier throughout the millennia he’d been under Megatron’s command - surely, that would be enough to encourage the warlord to act?

Knock Out was wrong.

He had to be.

As Knock Out continued to panic and Amira burrowed into her thoughts, the doors to the medbay slid open. Both Decepticons turned at the swishing sound of the door, finding two Vehicons just past the threshold, standing at attention. 

“What do you want?” Knock Out snapped, clearly in no mood to entertain anyone at the moment. Amira had to bite her tongue to keep from reprimanding him.

The two soldiers tilted their heads to look at each other for a moment before one of them finally spoke. “W-We were sent to assist you, sir.”

“Assist me?” Knock Out sounded affronted as he sized up the Vehicons.

“Commander Soundwave assigned us to help you run the medbay this shift,” the other explained. “Since Breakdown’s, erm, ‘indisposed.’”

“‘Indisposed?’” His earlier affrontation shifted into rage. “My conjunx is being held prisoner by squirmy little flesh bags and Soundwave’s sending me drones because he’s ‘indisposed?!’” 

The two Vehicons looked at each other again before one of them said quietly, “W-We’re just following orders, sir.” 

A buzz came from Amira’s phone, and she quickly opened up her notifications to read the new message. It was a simple audio file attached to a note that read ‘Will update when more information provided.’ She tapped the play button with her thumb and brought the speaker up to her ear.

 _“Lord Megatron,”_ Starscream’s nasally voice said, _“I fear Breakdown has gone missing.”_

 _“The Autobots?”_ Megatron asked, sounding almost bored as he said it.

 _“According to surveillance provided by the astonishingly accurate Soundwave-”_ Starscream spat out the communication officer’s name, _“-Breakdown was abducted by humans.”_

 _“Your point?”_ Megatron drawled. 

Your point? _Your point?_ What the hell did he mean ‘You’re point’? Breakdown had been captured! He needed help!

Starscream went on. _“My strongest recommendation - we assemble a rescue team to hunt down the vermin responsible for this outrage.”_

Amira found herself agreeing wholeheartedly with Starscream, which was in and of itself a miracle. Her grip on her phone tightened as she pressed the speaker closer to her ear.

 _“Breakdown is on his own,”_ Megatron finally said after a pause.

Amira felt her heart clench inside of her chest.

Starscream spluttered for a moment. _“Uh, m-master?”_

_“If Breakdown allowed himself to be captured by those smaller than him - weaker than him - he deserves whatever fate awaits him.”_

Her blood ran cold.

He… He wasn’t serious, was he? He couldn’t actually be saying that they were going to do nothing. She heard Starscream start to argue against Megatron’s decision, but he’d paused in the middle of his sentence, seeming to back down after a brief bout of silence. She could picture Megatron glaring at Starscream as he muttered out a yielding affirmative before the clip ended. 

Amira’s mouth went dry as she pushed her tongue against the back of her teeth. Shivers of fear and confusion ran up and down her spine. She held the phone against her ear for a minute more, hoping against hope that there was more to hear. That couldn’t be it. It just couldn’t! 

Breakdown was a strong, loyal soldier. Hadn’t he already proven his worth to Megatron? How could it all be so easily tossed away the moment Breakdown needed help?

“What?”

Amira’s head shot up, meeting Knock Out’s narrowed red eyes. 

“What?” she asked.

“You look like you know something,” he said, stepping closer towards her. “What is it?” His tone was quieter than before, but the sharpness and worry were still there too. She pressed her tongue against the roof of her mouth as she swallowed, trying to find the right words. She fiddled with her phone for a moment before forwarding the audio clip to Knock Out. He blinked in surprise at the message and stared at nothing as he played the file in his head.

Amira felt her stomach twist in knots as she watched Knock Out’s entire demeanor change. His servos began tremble slightly, and the red in his eyes spiraled down into pinpricks. His mouth had pulled into a tight grimace, and she could see that he was grinding his teeth, something he only ever did when he was especially upset. She’d only ever seen it a handful of times whenever he had an overwhelming workload and little sleep.

Without warning, Knock Out reached over, grabbed the top of a nearby tray cart, and threw it across the medbay. The deafening crash of metal on metal made her teeth rattle as she brought her hands up to cover her ears. Both of the Vehicons barely flinched as Knock Out snagged a set of datapads and chucked them against the nearest wall. They shattered into thousands of tiny bits, littering the floor and crunching under Knock Out’s feet as he searched for something else to break.

It went on for a few more minutes. Tools were thrown, more datapads smashed, and two cots flipped over. By the time Knock Out had calmed down, the medbay was an absolute wreck. He glared at the two Vehicons stilling standing in front of the door. With a wave of his hand, they stood aside, allowing him to walk past.

“Clean this mess up!” he snapped as he passed them and left the room, leaving the two soldiers and Amira alone. The Vehicons shared another look before they began to do as the medic had ordered, setting one of the discarded carts rightside up and sweeping up some of the smashed datapad pieces. Amira glanced over at the exit and bit the inside of her cheek. 

Knock Out was upset, and rightly so. But even so, there was still the problem at hand - Breakdown was in trouble. And if Megatron wasn’t going to help him, it was up to her and Knock Out to figure out a plan. 

She hobbled over to the small box she kept tucked away in the far corner of her usual countertop. She’d come up with the idea after getting fed up with constantly carrying supplies back and forth from her room. She kept a few things inside, like snacks and extra water, but there were some tools as well. She fumbled around for a minute before finding what she was looking for - a coiled rope with a knot every foot or so. 

It was a faster and more dignified alternative than waiting around to ask a passing Decepticon to ‘please pick her up.’ She was trying to debunk the rumor that she was a glorified pet, thank you very much. She tightened the straps on her walking boot before heading for the exit. It took longer than she wanted to get to the exit, but she managed it. Her ankle ached, but she pushed the pain down in favor of making her way down the way she’d seen Knock Out go. 

She had a few ideas of where he might have gone, and knew she needed to be quick if she wanted to stop Knock Out from doing something stupid that could get him in serious trouble. She stayed close to the wall as she sped down the walkways, going over the map she’d been slowly memorizing over the last month.

She’d turned to go down another hallway when she saw Starscream pass by the other end, going down another corridor. An idea began to form in her head, and Amira clenched her jaw and she sped up, going after the seeker. She almost lost him more than once, given how long his strides were compared to her, but he wasn’t in any hurry, so she finally managed to catch up after twenty or so minutes.

“Starscream!” she called out. He didn’t stop or even acknowledge her. She grumbled as she picked up the pace. “Starscream! Commander!”

 _That_ got his attention. Starscream came to a stop and turned his head, peering down at her with slitted eyes. He sneered in her direction and turned back around, seeming to ignore her as he continued on.

“Hey!” she called out. “I’m talking to you!” Starscream only huffed and flicked his wings in agitation before turning down another hallway. “Oh no you don’t!” she snapped as she ran after him. He was starting to pick up his pace, and Amira knew that if he did that for long enough, she would lose him. 

She grit her teeth and dug into her pockets for something to throw. She only  had a cheap pen in her jacket pocket, but it had to be enough. She ran faster, biting back a cry of pain as she grew closer. Lifting the pen up, Amira launched it overhand, and it hit Starscream’s back with a faint clunk before falling to the floor below. Starscream paused then, allowing Amira to finally catch up. She came to a stop and fought to catch her breath, panting heavily. She glanced up just in time to see a clawed hand come down next to her with a loud bang. 

She yelped as she pedaled backwards, falling onto her backside in her haste. She looked up and met the seeker’s bright red eyes as he glowered down at her.

“You dare tarnish my frame with your human garbage!” he hissed. Amira only rolled her eyes.

“I threw a pen at you. Don’t be such a drama queen.”

“You dare-!”

“Starscream, I need to talk to you!”

Starscream frowned as he lifted his away, curling his fingers to show off the sharpened claws. “I don’t have time for your incessant prattling, vermin. Unlike you, I actually have duties to attend to.”

“It’s about Breakdown,” she continued, shifting her legs back so that she could stand up again. “He needs help, whether Megatron is willing to see it or not.”

Starscream’s smirk was nothing short of malicious. “Is that treachery I’m hearing, human?”

“Oh, don’t start. I’ve been here for months now. You think I don’t already know all about you and your constant plotting?” she spat out. She ground her teeth as she met his glare with her own icy stare. “You know how important Breakdown is to the cause. You aren’t letting your pride or any sense of superiority blind you of that fact. So help me stage a rescue mission.”

“Help you?” Starscream scoffed at that. “I’m not in the business of helping anyone, much less some pathetic little human that believes she’s entitled to my time.” He took a step back and made to turn around, but Amira was at the walkway railing in a flash.

“Wait!” she cried. To her surprise, he actually did. She tightened her grip on the railing as she met his eyes again. “It would be a huge benefit to you too!”

“Oh, really?” The air commander sounded amused as he smirked at her. “And just how do you figure that, hm?”

“If you stage a rescue mission, it sends a message to your troops. That you’re willing to risk Megatron’s wrath to save one of your own. That you care about the well-being of the people who work under you.” Her grip tightening, whitening her knuckles. “It also could sway Breakdown’s loyalty from Megatron to you, if you tell him that you chose to save him, not Megatron.” 

 _That_ part was a lie. Breakdown had told her on multiple occasions that he didn’t trust Starscream in the slightest. No amount of effort put into a rescue attempt would change that. But it was what Starscream needed to hear, so she was sure Breakdown would forgive her. Starscream’s annoyed expression began to turn thoughtful, almost calculating. 

She swallowed the lump in her throat and spoke again. “And I would owe you a favor.”

Starscream’s thoughtful expression was twisted with another disgusted sneer. “Don’t insult me, human. Your ‘favors’ are meaningless to me,” he spat, “But swaying Breakdown’s loyalty…” He tapped a finger to his chin. “If Breakdown was loyal to me, Knock Out would no doubt follow along with it.” Not likely, but she’d let him think whatever he wanted. “Yes… yes, this could do quite nicely.” He glanced down at Amira, his glare icy. “If I do this - if! - I will also be owed a favor from both Knock Out and Breakdown.”

“Done.” She’d deal with the fallout for that later.

Starscream seemed amused with how quickly she answered. “You must care a great deal about Breakdown if you are willing to conspire with a superior officer behind Lord Megatron’s back.” He was baiting her, she knew - no doubt hoping that she would flounder to deny his claim in an attempt to save a little face. She wouldn’t be so easily goaded. She leveled a neutral, hardened expression on him, her hands still gripping the railing with ferocity. 

“It’s a deal, then?” 

“Hardly,” Starscream scoffed. “It’s a calculated move towards my inevitable rise to Supreme Leader of the Decepticons. With some added bonus.” 

“So you’ll do it?” She just needed a straight answer before letting him go off again. Starscream didn’t seem to take too kindly to her attitude, but she couldn’t bring herself to care in the slightest. Not with Breakdown’s life on the line. 

“Yes, I shall,” he agreed with a quick nod before glancing down the hallway. “And one more thing.” His hand came back down suddenly, shaking the walkway under Amira’s feet. Her teeth rattled as she fought to stay on her feet. Her ankle ached from the vibrations, but she managed to stay standing up. 

“Wha-?”

Starscream leaned closer down to come eye to eye with her. “If I do this, and Megatron just so happens to hear of my intentions, I will know who to come after. If you really aren’t as idiotic as the rest of your species, you will do well to keep. Your intake. Shut.” He leaned in even closer, filling Amira’s vision with those bright red eyes. “Do I make myself perfectly clear?”

Amira pursed her lips and bowed her head slightly, her eyes narrowing at him. “Crystal,” she finally replied. Seeming satisfied with her answer, Starscream finally moved away, brushing off some invisible dirt from his chest before turning on his heel. 

“As you were, whelp.” 

Amira waited until after Starscream had disappeared down another corner to roll her eyes. All this posturing was absolutely ridiculous, but it seemed to be the only way to get anything done around here. At least with the officers, it seemed. She dug her phone out of her back pocket and tried sending Knock Out a message.

 

_Just now_

_Me: Where are you?_

 

She waited for a moment after the message sent. The ‘Read’ label popped up, followed by the little speech bubble that indicated someone was typing. She knew he was probably telling her to leave him alone, but she waited all the same.

To her surprise, Knock Out did not send her a message ordering her to leave him alone. Instead, he sent a small series of convoluted instructions. With a hum, she picked up the roll of rope that had fallen out of her hands during her encounter with Starscream and continued her way down the corridors of the Nemesis.

 

* * *

 

Amira heard Knock Out before she saw him. The directions she’d been given had been confusing, twisting her around more than once, but as she drew closer, the sound of Knock Out’s engine roaring got her attention. She followed the roaring into one of the empty hangers, and found the medic in vehicle mode, racing around in a circle. He’d shoved all of the crates that had been stored here into the middle of the space, creating a crude sort of racetrack that he seemed to be taking full advantage of. 

She watched for a while as Knock Out went around and around, his tires screeching against the cold steel floor as he drifted again and again. After watching a few laps, Amira tied the end of the rope to the edge of the railing, testing its durability before carefully sliding down. She took her time, her hands grabbing at each premade knot on the way down. 

When she finally made it to the floor, Knock Out had seemed to have worked off a good bit of his rage. He was still whizzing past, lap after lap, but there was more care in the driving know, almost like he was pacing. She watched him a while longer, hoping that he would see her and slow down. He did not. 

Annoyed and in no mood to sit through another fit, Amira took a deep breath before rolling her shoulders and stepping out onto the track. She stood in the center of the pathway, spreading her legs to keep herself grounded to the spot as she stared ahead. The glow of Knock Out’s headlights danced along the walls before he turned again, accelerating towards where she stood. 

She heard him rev his engine. She stuck out her jaw in defiance and crossed her arms. He drew ever closer, the vibrations of his engine building up in the floor and running up her legs. She grit her teeth as the roar of his engine grew louder and louder until it was almost deafening. Her eyes shut as the bright light of his headlights filled her vision. She felt the heat of his engine against her legs before feeling how the air was displaced around her. The sound of transformation rang in an arch over her head, followed by the crash and screech of heavy metal feet meeting the floor. Amira opened her eyes and turned, staring up at Knock Out’s pale face, noting the displeased glare.

“Playing chicken with a car? That doesn’t usually end well for your kind,” he said as he straightened his posture, rolling his shoulders. 

“Neither does running yourself ragged driving around in circles, I imagine,” she shot back. He huffed as he placed a hand on his hip. “Does anyone know you’re in here? I doubt any of the other officers would be cool with you moving around supplies like this,” she added as she gestured to the containers that he’d shoved into the center of the room.

“I can’t exactly leave the ship right now. And I’m already going to get enough slag for trashing the medbay as it is. I needed to cool down.”

“So you’re calm now?”

“Cooled down? Slightly. Calm? _Never._ ” His eyes narrowed slightly. “What do you want?”

“For you to quit with your little temper tantrum so we can get ready for when Breakdown comes back.” She steeled herself as she watched Knock Out’s frown curl into a snarl.

“I think I’m within my rights to have a temper tantrum,” he spat with venom. “My conjunx is being held prisoner by squirmy little flesh bags and my commander won’t order for a rescue party. So if I want to burn off a little extra charge by tearing up a hanger, I fragging will.”

“Breakdown is going to be rescued.”

“Now is not the time for your annoying human optimism.”

“You’re right. I’m being prepared.” She placed her hands on her hips to mimic his stance. “I spoke to Starscream. I got him to agree to stage a rescue mission for Breakdown.” Knock Out stared at her, his eyes slightly wide as he blinked at her with surprise.

“You… what?”

“I said-”

“I heard you,” Knock Out snapped, his eyes narrowing again. “What do you mean you ‘got him to agree’ to it? What did you bargain with, fleshie?”

Starscream’s reputation was well-known when it came to favors, it seemed. She pressed her lips into a thin line.

“I made it seem like it was his idea.” Knock Out’s expression softened slightly at that, and if Amira didn’t know any better, she would have thought he looked impressed. “I also told him that all three of us owe him a favor.” That slight admiration evaporated.

“You what?!” he hissed. “Do you have any idea what you just agreed to?!”  
  
“I got him to agree to get Breakdown, didn’t I?”

“Oh yes, he agreed to it! Because if there’s any Decepticon who’s word you can trust, it’s _Starscream._ ” If Knock Out’s eyes could shoot lasers, Amira was certain that she’d be a stain on the ground by now. She still might end up one, if he didn’t calm down. “Honestly, do you even know what the word ‘deception’ fragging means?!”

“I’m intimately familiar with it,” she shot back, taking a step forward. “That doesn’t change the fact that the deal was made. He thinks that by saving Breakdown, he can sway both his and your loyalty. And look good in front of the troops.” Which would work out quite well, given how much the Vehicons respected Breakdown, she realized. 

“You’re unbelievable,” Knock Out snapped, running a hand over his face in frustration.

“And you’re a melodramatic prick who’d rather stay here and feel sorry for yourself instead of getting off your ass and _doing something_!” She was screaming now, but she didn’t care. “Get a hold of yourself! Something bad is happening, so do something about it! Take a step back, take a goddamn breath, and come up with a plan!” Knock Out’s annoyed frown slowly melted away. “If you want to freak out about it, you wait until after there’s nothing left to be done! You’re thousands of years old, so start fucking acting like it!” She was panting, her arms shaking with rage as she glowered at the Decepticon.

Knock Out stared at her, silent as she took a few breaths. He rose a brow at her in question.

“Perhaps you’re the one who needs to cool down,” he finally said after her breathing had evened out. She only glared harder at him.

“We need to clean up the medbay and prep it for Breakdown,” she said, her voice quieter but still firm. He glanced over at the rope she’d tied to the walkway.

“Did you seriously climb down with this?” he asked as he stepped towards the rope, pinching it between two fingers. 

“Well, what else was I going to do? Jump with a parachute?” she snarked. Knock Out snorted before tugging it off of the railing with a faint snap. Amira sucked in a breath, ready to shout at him for doing that when she was still on the ground, when he transformed back into his vehicle mode. The passenger’s side door popped open, and Knock Out revved his engine again. Amira stayed stockstill, staring at the Aston Martin.

“Well? Are you coming? Or do you plan to walk all the way back to the medbay?” he hummed. She stared a moment longer before seeming to come back to herself.

“I just screamed at you and your reaction is to offer me a ride?” She pursed her lips. “They warn us about being brought to secondary locations, you know.”

“I don’t have any plans for you that involve a secondary location,” he said before adding on, “Not yet, anyways.” She scoffed. “The way I see it, you can’t climb up anymore - not that I’d let you with that boot - so you don’t have much of a choice.” He wiggled the opened door. “Last chance.”

She hated to admit it, but he had a point. So with a huff, Amira walked around to the passenger’s side and slid into the plush leather seat. The door shut and Knock Out’s engine revved against before he shot forward, heading for the exit. Amira wrapped her hands around the sides of the seat as she tried to make sense of what the hell had just happened.

 

* * *

 

When Amira and Knock Out had returned to the medbay, it was spotless and devoid of any Vehicons. Guess Soundwave decided Knock Out didn’t need assistance after all. Or just didn’t want to fill out the paperwork if Knock Out decided to tear the poor bots apart.

Knock Out had set her back on her usual countertop before he began doing as she’d suggested, preparing the medbay for an incoming patient. She only recognized a few of the instruments he pulled out, and decided to go grab her work and do it out here to keep him company.

They stayed that way for hours, quietly working on their own projects in a semblance of companionable silence. It was almost midnight when Knock Out straightened suddenly, his frame stilling as he stared off at nothing. Amira glanced up at him, waiting for him to finish hearing whatever was being said through his commlink. He glanced back at her with wide eyes. She frowned.

“What?”

“Breakdown has been freed,” he said quietly. “His location is being tracked so that Soundwave can open up a groundbridge for him.” Elation and slight apprehension filled her chest as she sat up, setting her laptop aside to stand up.

“How long until he gets here?” She tried to keep her voice even and calm.

“A few klicks,” he murmured before turning to face her. “I… I’ve never known Starscream to work so quickly.”

Amira only shrugged. “I didn’t give him a timeframe. He must really want you both on his side.” Knock Out simply stared at her, his mouth pursed as he furrowed his brow. She shifted under the scrutinous look. “What?” Knock Out seemed to be thinking over what to say, but before he could answer her, the medbay doors slid open and in stumbled a battered, broken Breakdown. 

He was covered in dents and scrapes, some so severe that he had stray sparks flying out of exposed wiring. There were ugly weld marks all along his arms and chest. But the most gruesome injury was his eye. His missing eye. The metal surrounding where Breakdown’s eye should have been was stretched and warped, like something had punched through it. More sensitive wiring was exposed, leaving black scorch marks around the wound. 

Both Amira and Knock Out gaped as Breakdown limped in, his face drawn in an expression she’d never seen before. He looked so tired. Knock Out was across the room in the next moment, hands out to offer his conjunx assistance to the closest berth. “Small steps,” he said quietly as he helped maneuver the larger con. With a grunt, Breakdown was rolled onto the berth, his face now twisted with pain.

Amira was up and taking the steps two at a time, her eyes never leaving Breakdown’s broken form as she crossed the medbay. Knock Out had taken on the cool, calm professionalism of a doctor putting all of their focus into their patient. He spoke in quick, short tones, and seemed to know what Breakdown needed before he himself knew. Amira would have thought he was being completely professional if she hadn’t noticed the minute trembling in Knock Out’s hands as he passed a scanner over Breakdown’s body. 

She came up around the berth and glanced at the space between the metal slab and the walkway. Not a simple jump, but not nearly as daring as her fall while in Autobot custody. She didn’t hesitate as she swung over the railing and fell down onto the slab. As soon as her feet hit the berth, she tucked in and rolled, absorbing the impact more equally throughout her body in an effort to keep the pressure off of her still mending ankle.

Breakdown shifted slightly at the thump of her landing, turning to glance at her out of his good eye. “Optics over here,” Knock Out scolded gently, waving his fingers in Breakdown’s line of vision. Amira was up on her hands and knees now, watching as Knock Out ran another scan over Breakdown’s mangled eye socket. His gaze flickered from the scanner to her before his ruby red eyes narrowed. “If you’re going to get close, stay out of my way. And don’t strain your injury. You’ll undo all my hard work.” 

Amira simply rolled her eyes before crawling closer to Breakdown’s face. “Hey, you,” she said softly. Breakdown didn’t say anything, but she saw his jaw twitch. She reached out tentatively, gently placing a hand on his cheek in a silent gesture of reassurance. 

His good eye locked onto her then, and after a tense moment, he answered with a rough “Hey.”

“You look like slag,” she said with a weak laugh. She knew she shouldn’t laugh, but in that moment, she remembered how a few weeks ago, their positions had been reversed. The memory wasn’t lost on Breakdown either, as he managed a small smirk as well.

“Feel like it,” he answered, repeating what she herself had said when she’d been brought back onto the Nemesis. 

Amira slowly ran her thumb along the burnt orange metal of his cheek as she met his eye. “What happened?” she asked. “Who did this to you?”

“Yes,” Knock Out said as he picked up a tool with a sharp hook at the end, “I need to know who I need to eviscerate for marring your frame this way. Enlighten me.” Breakdown shifted on his back, grimacing as the hook was brought down to the sensitive wiring around his eye socket.

“Some kinda human agents. Organized little rats that call themselves MECH,” he explained. “The guy in charge - Silas - he said they wanted to learn about us.” Breakdown looked up at Knock Out then. “They want to learn what makes us tick so they can make weapons for themselves.”

Knock Out sneered at the statement, and Amira was inclined to agree. 

Humans wanting to weaponize Cybertrionan biology? It sounded sick. She’d never heard of MECH, or Silas, but it was very likely they were military. Or at least had the training. They’d have to be to stand even a chance of taking down someone like Breakdown.

“How did they even catch you? You should’ve crushed them with no problem,” she said, trying to understand.

“I was following an energon signal in some abandoned town,” Breakdown muttered, grunting in discomfort as Knock Out flicked open his chest to see that damage they’d done to his internal components. “Bulkhead showed up and we got into a fight. I was about to bash the fragger’s helm in when one of those stinking humans shot me. Some sort of electrical thing. Completely fried my circuits and knocked me offline. When I woke up, they had me strapped down in some tunnel and told me they were gotta cut me up.” Breakdown stared up at the ceiling for a brief moment. “...They shut off my pain receptors and made me watch,” he said quietly.

Knock Out’s hands froze and Amira paused her gentle petting. Bubbling fury swirled in the pit of her stomach and slowly crawled up her throat as she clenched her jaw.

“They made you watch,” Knock Out repeated, his eyes little more than slits as his mouth pursed with anger. Breakdown’s fingers tapped against the medical slab and his eyes didn’t leave the ceiling. Amira glanced over just in time to meet Knock Out’s eyes. A silent conversation took place between the two in that moment, and Amira felt her heart clench at the implications she found in Knock Out’s gaze. She looked back at Breakdown and sat up on her knees, drawing his attention back in her direction.

“Do you have the location saved at all?” she asked.

“They fragged up my chronometer and some other stuff. But when I got out, Starscream was there. He’s probably got the location,” he said. Amira and Knock Out’s eyes met again briefly before she continued.

“Well, we’ll just have to get those coordinates from him then,” she assured him. “Knock Out will get you working good as new, and once you’re better-” she leaned in closer to meet his single yellow eye, “-We’re going hunting.”

“No.” She blinked with surprise at the ferocity behind the command. Breakdown grimaced up at the ceiling again. “No,” he said, his voice calmer. “I don’t want either of you anywhere near those fraggers. They ain’t amateurs. They got plenty of information from me. And I doubt another human will be a challenge for ‘em.” He glanced back down at her. “Promise me you won’t go lookin’ for ‘em.”

Amira wanted to argue against it. She wanted to find the fuckers who’d done this and tear them apart. One look at Knock Out told her he shared her desire. She’d gladly leave right now to kill the bastards if Breakdown wasn’t so hurt. 

But Breakdown looked so scared. And he was so much stronger than either of them. If he really was this shaken up, she knew that she couldn’t take these MECH guys lightly. She mentally crossed her fingers as she said softly “Okay. I promise.”

Knock Out merely hummed as he returned his focus to the internal components of Breakdown’s chest. Amira knelt down again and pressed closer up to his cheek. Her anger was still there, but another emotion began to push itself towards the forefront of her mind. She swallowed the growing lump in her throat as she leant her forehead against the warm metal of Breakdown’s face.

“You reckless idiot,” she said after a moment. Her voice was shaky, shakier than she’d intended. Her eyes began to burn. “I was so worried,” she whispered.

Breakdown let out a weak huff, the closest to laugh he could do at the moment. “Takes a lot more than that to offline me, bitlet.”

She let out a wet laugh, her vision blurring with tears. She offered a weak smile as she shut her eyes. She’d done all she could. She’d talked someone into a rescue attempt. She’d gotten Knock Out to calm down enough to get the medbay ready. She’d kept him company.

And now it seemed she couldn’t hold back her emotions anymore. She argued that today had been rather emotional for her. First the funeral, then opening up about Lucas, and then this.

Stars, had the funeral really been this morning? It felt like it had been days.

Amira knew there was more that she needed to consider about all this - the most important thing being Megatron’s complete disregard for Breakdown’s wellbeing.

Later.

Right now, she wanted to be here, in this moment, with Breakdown and Knock Out.

But the thought still floated around in her mind.

She had some serious reevaluating to do.

* * *

 

[SOMEBODY MADE A FANART!!!](https://m.imgur.com/a/csnq8nf))

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aww, bonding ❤ So sweet.
> 
> It would be a real shame if something happened :^)


	17. A Hiding Place

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so ready for the spoops, ya'll don't even know.
> 
> -
> 
> Like what you see? Come check out my Tumblr and shoot me a message! I love hearing from you guys!
> 
> https://www.google.com/url?sa=t&source=web&rct=j&url=http://geminiwishes.tumblr.com/&ved=2ahUKEwjI2ePR0rniAhVMeawKHXCYB18QFjAAegQICBAC&usg=AOvVaw24zaMp81HoMPcDZIslJis9

At some point, Amira had fallen asleep while sitting with Breakdown during his repairs. She’d woken up in Knock Out’s hand as he lifted up the roof to her room and set her down on her cot. She’d managed a softly mumbled ‘thank you’ before curling up under a blanket, vaguely aware of Knock Out’s reply before she drifted back to sleep.

She hadn’t been filled in on the extent of Breakdown’s injuries, but she had learned that most of them had been fairly superficial - the most tarnishing ones being his eye and his chest. They’d cut through the metal in the middle to open him up instead of looking for the latch, leaving a long, ugly weld mark that went right down the front of his chest. Knock Out had re-welded, rebuffed, and painted over the hideous line, but the metal remained raised, and after a few days, it had darkened around the injury.

Knock Out had done all that he could for Breakdown’s eye. Amira later learned from Margaret that he had scoured the Nemesis’ supply for anything pertaining to a replacement, but to no avail. He’d shut off the pain receptors surrounding the hollowed socket, cleaned up the excess scorched metal, and placed an eyepatch over the injury. 

Amira found herself staring more than once the next time she saw Breakdown. 

The rest of Breakdown’s recovery was fairly quick. A day or so of bedrest and medical grade energon, followed by a week of limited duty, and Breakdown was back on rotation.

At one point while Breakdown had been working in the medbay during his week of recovery, Megatron had paid a visit. All three Decepticons had frozen when their general had entered the medbay. He’d passed Knock Out and Amira, his eyes locked on Breakdown as he crossed the space to stand before him. Breakdown stood perfectly still, his head bowed as he waited for Megatron to speak. 

He stared down at Breakdown, his eyes narrowed and his expression carefully neutral. Then he said “It seems you’ve managed to crawl out of whatever hole those humans dragged you into.” His mouth curled into a grimace. “If I ever learn that you have allowed yourself to be taken by such pathetic lifeforms again, do not bother coming back here. I will not harbor weak links in my chain of command.” 

Amira felt her stomach drop at his words. She stared at Megatron as he left, his eyes shining with a wicked sense of amusement. No one dared move until after he’d left the room, the door shutting with a hiss behind him. Knock Out scoffed at the door before making his way over to his conjunx. He placed a gentle hand against the curve of Breakdown’s chin. He didn’t say anything, just simply ran his thumb along the plating there until Breakdown’s hand came up to encompass Knock Out’s.

Amira almost felt like she was intruding on a private moment. Knock Out and Breakdown had become much more comfortable about displays of affection around her, and she wasn’t sure how to feel about it. 

It was sweet, but at the same time, it made her slightly uncomfortable - like she was doing something wrong by watching them be so vulnerable with each other. She’d wondered if she should ask them if it was really alright, but there just never seemed to be a good time.

Despite Knock Out’s assurances, after that day, Breakdown began to close in on himself. He spoke less. He didn’t smile much anymore. He became more reclusive. More than once, Amira had caught Breakdown picking at the edges of his eyepatch. She knew Knock Out had noticed it too, glancing out of the corner of his eye for just a moment before quickly looking back at whatever was in front of him. 

Knock Out had been basically attached to his conjunx’s hip for most of his initial recovery period. But as the scarring began to settle, and as Breakdown’s overall health began to rise once more, Knock Out began spending less and less time with him. He still kept a close watch on the Wrecker, but he no longer remained at Breakdown’s side all day. He started going out more regularly again.

One of the only things Breakdown did anymore that held even a semblance to his life before the attack was his daily trips to the mess hall with Amira. She’d had to coax him for a long period of time the first few days after he was cleared of bedrest, but as the days passed, he began to come along without any issues - even being the one to invite her to take a break to go get some fuel. It wasn’t exactly the same - Breakdown usually had a few conversations with either her or another Vehicon in the mess, but now he just stared down at the table while he casually sipped his ration.

It was a bit unnerving, to say the least, and Amira wasn’t sure what could be done about it. She doubted that many Decepticons enjoyed talking about their feelings - at least, not by what she’d witnessed in these past few months. But acting like everything was fine wasn’t working either.

 

Two weeks after Breakdown had been given a clean bill of health, Amira had finally had enough.

Breakdown was currently re-stacking crates of supplies in the far corner for the third time that morning. The thud and creak of the crates was quickly wearing on Amira’s nerves, distracting her from the blueprints she’d been looking over. She closed the window on her tablet and set it aside before standing up.

“I think they’re organized enough,” she called out. Breakdown paused, his fingers already closed around another crate. She watched him for a moment before saying, “When was the last time you refueled?” Breakdown didn’t answer, which only made her purse her lips slightly with annoyance. “You need to go grab a ration. That supplies can wait.”

“M’fine.”

“Bullshit,” she snapped. Breakdown turned his head to look at her then, narrowing his lone golden eye on her. She glared right back at him. “You know, ever since you escaped from MECH, you’ve been acting weird. You never talk anymore. You hardly ever leave the medbay. Hell, you don’t even try and sass me anymore! Knock Out’s had to pick up your slack.”

Breakdown straightened himself as he kept his gaze on her. “If you want me to insult you, I’d be happy to.”

“What I want is for you to stop acting like this.” She crossed her arms, digging her nails into her skin. “You’re really starting to worry Knock Out, you know. He doesn’t say anything, but I can tell. And I think you can too.” Breakdown only frowned as he looked away from her. In the months Amira had been with the Decepticons, she had learned to read Breakdown’s body language rather well, so when his hands curled into fists, she knew he was about to blow up and storm off. She couldn’t have that. “Let’s get out of here.”

That made Breakdown pause. His expression morphed from one of irritation to confusion. “What?”

“Let’s get off the ship for a while,” she explained further. “You’re going stir-crazy, and I definitely need some fresh air. My work can wait and you don’t have any that needs to be finished right now. So let’s go.”

“Go where?”

“You’ll see.”

 

* * *

 

Amira’s shoulders tensed as Breakdown launched over another sand dune, pressing herself back into her seat as her teeth rattled against each other. Breakdown landed with a thud on the other side of the now busted dune and revved his engine again. She couldn’t help but grin as she felt the rumble of the Wrecker’s frame beneath her. Even though he didn’t have a face in this form, she knew he was grinning.

Breakdown had been more than a little confused when he’d been coerced into one of the hangers where a groundbridge was waiting for them. Amira had only told him to ‘stop asking questions and appreciate this chance, goddammit’. 

He didn’t need to know that she’d had to practically beg Soundwave to allow them to leave the ship, giving some bullshit excuse of practicing drills just so there was an official reason on the request. She might have also bribed him with a promise for an entire collection of drawings of Lazerbeak. It wasn’t like anyone could _prove_ she had.

But it was all worth it to be here now with Breakdown, beating down mountainous piles of sand and burning rubber while hard rock played on his radio. It was rough, loud, and fast. 

And it was the most therapeutic thing either of them had done in months.

Amira let out a squeal of delight as Breakdown drove up another dune, kicking up sand as he climbed higher and higher. Detroit Rock City was blasting through his speakers as they reached the top of the dune and came to a stop. Breakdown revved his engine, the roar almost drowning out KISS as he shot forward, careening down the hill and picking up speed as he neared another dune.

“Hang on!” he shouted over the guitar riff. Amira laughed as they slammed into the dune, sending sand flying in all directions. Her seatbelt kept her from launching forward, but she still bounced in the seat. Breakdown slowed to a stop at the base of the busted dune, a small cloud of steam rising from somewhere beneath his hood. 

Amira sat up slightly and pressed a hand on the console. “You alright?” 

“Yeah,” he muttered through his speaker, lowering the volume of the music. “I’m fine. Just ah, been a bit since I got out like this. My joints were starting to stiffen up, ya know?” 

“Mm,” she hummed. She glanced around their surroundings, taking in the huge dunes, the lone road, and the cliffside off in the distance. She wasn’t sure exactly where they were - she’d only asked Soundwave to send them somewhere where they wouldn’t be disturbed by anyone for a few hours. 

“I think I need a break,” Breakdown said. Amira pursed her lips slightly. Breakdown wasn’t one to talk about his health, so the fact that he was openly admitting that he was tired spoke volumes about just how worn out he really was.

“Alright,” she said, “How about we go look around those cliffs? There aren’t any people out here, so you can walk around.” He must have liked that idea, because he pushed forward, nearing the lone road to make the short trip over to the red cliffside. Breakdown pulled up in front of a large boulder before opening his door. Amira unbuckled her seatbelt and slipped out, stretching her arms up in the air as Breakdown shifted into his root mode. 

“S’not a lot here,” he grumbled as he looked around. She let out a snort of amusement.

“We haven’t even looked around yet,” she chided, smirking at him. He only huffed as he glanced around. Amira began to walk along the cliffside, being mindful of her steps. She pressed a hand against one of the towering sheaths of rock, the red stone quickly heating up the skin of her palm. She traced along one of the lines of the stone as she kept walking along the path. Breakdown looked around a bit, but didn’t follow her as she turned around a bend. She came upon a large hole in the side of one of the cliffs and paused at the lip of it.

“Hey, Breakdown!” she called out. 

“What?”

“Come here!”

“Why?”

“I found a cave!”

“So what?”

“I’m going to go check it out,” she said before pulling out her phone and switching on the flashlight feature. “You coming?”

“Doesn’t sound good to me.”

“Fine,” she replied with a huff. “Just don’t leave without me, okay? I will not hesitate to sell you out to Soundwave if you do!” She thought she heard him grumble with disappointment, but she ignored it in favor of walking deeper into the cave. The ceiling was rather high up, and she wondered if Breakdown would be able to fit in here. She doubted she could convince him to join her, however.

Amira walked further in, finding another chamber after a few minutes of a steadily downward. She peeked inside and gaped at just how huge the chamber was. Her phone’s light could just barely make out the ceiling that had to have been at least a few hundred feet up. Every step she took echoed throughout the cave, ringing in her ears along with the thump of her heart. 

She looked up at the ceiling again before she shouted out “Hello! Hello, hello!” 

“What are you doin’ in there?” Breakdown’s voice called out from further back. She grinned as she spun around on her foot. She walked to the nearest wall and placed a hand on the rock. It was cold, but not wet, which was always a good sign. Not too grainy either. She gave it an experimental pat as she heard Breakdown call out again. “Bitlet?” Light began to creep near the chamber entrance.

Amira popped her head out just in time to see Breakdown in vehicle mode once again, his headlights on as he slowly drove into the cave tunnel. “You have to see what I found,” she said eagerly. Breakdown came to a stop before the entryway and she backed away to give him room to drive in. He pulled in and transformed back into root mode. He looked around, his single golden eye looking all the more prominent in the low light of the cave.

“S’big for a cave on Earth,” he thought out loud.

“I think it was an air pocket or something,” Amira offered with a shrug. She pressed a hand against another bit of the wall, her eyes following along the slight curve it gave as it got closer to the ceiling. She hummed for a moment before she was struck with a thought that had her heart fluttering in her chest. She grinned as she glanced back at Breakdown.

He felt her eyes on his neck and frowned as he saw her smile. “What?”

“Feel like making a quick pit stop?”

 

* * *

 

They were in Utah, it turned out. St. George, Utah. It had taken a bit of wandering around before Amira had found the store she wanted. Luckily, she’d saved the credit card information to her phone, and had been assured that it would still work, regardless of whether or not the bank had tried to freeze it. 

She’d been relieved that Breakdown didn’t have a holoform of his own to follow her inside with. Knock Out’s was creepy enough. She had filled her shopping cart to the max with all matter of supplies, much to the cashier and the bagger’s dismay. She only punched in the credit card information as the bagger grabbed another cart to transfer all of the bags into. The final total still made her wince, despite her assurances of the supposed endless Decepticon funds.

By the time she had paid and left with her cart, the sun was high in the sky, telling her that it was around lunchtime. Breakdown was parked nearby, and it took quite a bit of convincing for him to pop his trunk open for Amira. She’d quickly loaded everything in and returned the cart before climbing back into the passenger’s seat.

“What’s all this for?” Breakdown asked.

“You’ll see. Come on, let’s head back to that cave.

 

* * *

 

Breakdown watched as Amira set up a station of sorts near the entrance of the chamber, a spread of cans out in front of her. “You gonna tell me what this about now?” 

Amira grinned devilishly. “Art, Breakdown. This is about art.” She held up a can of spray paint and shook it to emphasize her point. She pulled out one of the bags and extracted a new face mask she’d spotted in the paint aisle. It was a breathable material that looked almost like a bandana, and it had a toothy smile printed across the mouth. She tied the ends together around her neck before picking up one of the larger paint cans and walking over to Breakdown’s foot. 

She set it down in front of him and looked up at him. “I use my art as a way to meditate. It gives me a way to relax and try to forget everything that’s making me worry.” She smirked up at him. “I figured you might like to give it a try.”

Breakdown didn’t look completely sold on the idea, but he only asked “And we couldn’t just do this on the ship ‘cause-?”

“I’m used to being in a dark place like this when I work. It’s quiet and there aren’t any other people around, so no chance that someone will interrupt us.” She picked up two large mops, one shaggy and the other a sponge, and offered them up to him. “It’s actually really therapeutic.” Breakdown crossed his arms and glanced around the chamber. “Come on,” she urged, waving one of the mops, “Just try it. You might like it.” 

 

* * *

 

Breakdown admitted, rather begrudgingly, that he did indeed like painting. After a few quick lessons from Amira about something the humans called “color theory”, he’d actually started to enjoy himself as he splashed all matter of colors upon the cave walls.

He enjoyed himself so much, in fact, that he and Amira began to visit rather frequently. Of course, the set up got better the more often they came. A few flood lights were set up to illuminate the chamber. They had a few ladders and even a small scaffolding for Amira to use for bigger pieces. Amira had even brought in a radio that she used to play her music as they painted. 

They would alternate between stations, taking turns picking out what to listen to. Breakdown was a fan of classic and hard rock, and a little bit of country. All of his music was full of life and a kind of emotion that seemed to hype him up even more. Amira preferred trap and hip-hop. She had a penchant for songs that had no lyrics, a few, or packed full. She liked the ones that she could move to. When Breakdown had asked why, she had explained that she liked the music that ‘you can feel throughout your whole body.’

Sometimes, they didn’t turn on the radio. The cave would be filled with companionable silence. Or they would talk - usually about cultural things; Breakdown couldn’t seem to wrap his head around the concept of the Olympics, no matter how many times Amira tried to explain it.

“So wait,” Breakdown said as he dipped his mop-turned-paintbrush into a large bucket of grass green paint, “Humans got the tech to enhance their bodies, so they can do better at these events, and you aren’t allowed to use them?”

“Well, yeah. Steroid usage is seen as cheating in competitions.”

“Why?”

“I think it’s got to do with natural ability,” Amira hummed as she put down the slate grey and picked up a can of brick red. “If you use drugs to make yourself better, that’s the drugs, not you. And the Olympics is all about natural talent and the best of the best.”

“So you should use everything that can help you become the best,” Breakdown argued.

“It’s not- They’re not supposed to, though.”

“Well, that’s just stupid,” he said, “If you got something that can make you better, you should use it. Who cares how fast a human can run on their own? Give ‘em some of those upgrades and record _that_.” 

Amira rolled her eyes, giving up as she replaced her mask over her mouth and nose and began touching up a line with highlights of the red. She’d been working on this particular piece for two weeks now, using any excuse she could think of to drag Breakdown out here so she could work on it. It was more or less a way to not-so-subtly make him paint too, but she was also glad to be able to paint like this once again.

She paused as she stared up at the work on the wall. She worked her jaw for a moment before tugging down her mask again. “You know,” she said, “Painting really did help me. Back when I was on the streets.” She heard shuffling and could imagine Breakdown turning himself slightly to watch her. “I told you about how I lost my apartment and ran to Boston, yeah?”

That had been about a week ago. Breakdown had been respectful of Amira’s privacy regarding her past, either because he didn’t want to push or because he simply didn’t care. But after they got into a discussion about cities, he’d asked if she’d always lived in Boston. It had been difficult to find the words, but Amira had grown to trust Breakdown over the last few months. She’d told him about her mother and where she came from, the life they had before her step-father showed up, and about Lucas. She’d managed to keep it together for the most part, but if Breakdown had noticed her teary eyes, he hadn’t mentioned it.

He made a noise of confirmation.

“When I had run away when I was fifteen, I had taken a lot of stuff with me. But when I hitched a ride to Boston, I didn’t have a chance to pack up much. I didn’t want to stay there long enough for the cops to come looking for me. So when I got to Boston, I was completely lost and had next to nothing to my name. I just kind of… drifted. I got caught stealing from a gas station and got arrested. I was in prison for a bit.” Her thumb pushed hard into the cool aluminum of the can. “I… I thought about doing something bad. Just so that my sentence would be longer. Because yeah, prison sucked, but it was still a building. I had clothes and food and a bed. 

“But every time I thought about it, I’d remember Lucas. I thought about how disappointed he’d be if he did decide to come looking for me and found out that I’d done something like that. How disgusted he would be with me. So I became a model fuckin’ prisoner. I kissed ass and pretended like I actually gave a shit, and they cut my time short. A year after I was arrested, I was released on parole for good behavior.

“While I was in there, they would have these art classes that prisoners could go to if they behaved well. I didn’t really care, but it was something to do, so I went.” She fiddled with the nozzle of the can, noting the paint staining her fingers. “And I realized just how… how freeing art really was. It helped that I was good at it, too. The instructor told me I had a real knack for surrealism. It was a whole new way to say what I was feeling. I didn’t need to use words for once. And the physical labor you put into a piece, when it’s finished, it just… There’s no feeling like the one you get when you finish a piece you poured your heart and soul into, you know?” 

Breakdown glanced back at his own painting as he hummed in understanding. “Does uh, does all your stuff make you happy?”

“Not always,” she admitted. “Sometimes I draw when I want to vent. Those are usually pretty dark though. Sometimes I’ll make something when I’m grieving. I did this huge sketch of my mom when I was in prison. I didn’t have any pictures, so I had to do it from memory. It hurt to do, and it hurt to look at it, but something about making it just made me feel… I don’t know, relieved? I don’t know if I’m making any sense, honestly.”

“I think I get it,” he assured her. He motioned towards his wall. “I don’t exactly get a buncha warm fuzzies when I look at this one.” Amira set her paint can down and walked over to the other, looking at the image he’d created. It was a crude painting of a large Cybertronian with acid green limbs and grey bodywork. His eyes were bright red and he was snarling, showing off his teeth.

“Who’s that?” she asked.

“Me,” Breakdown replied, “And a few other mechs.”

Amira frowned in confusion. “What do you mean?”

Breakdown pointed to the Cybertronian. “That’s Devastator. He’s a Combiner. Back before I took on that mission with the Wreckers, I was a Stunticon. Me and these four other mechs could combine together into one that Megatron called Devastator.”

“I didn’t think you guys could do that.”

“S’not easy,” he grumbled, “Hurts like pit to get the mods just to do it. And it takes a lotta concentration.”

“What was it like?” she asked, sitting down next to him. “Could you like, hear each other’s thoughts or something?”

Breakdown shrugged. “S’more like you can feel each other’s feelings. But we did have a leader who kind of acted as the processor whenever we combined.” He grimaced as he glanced up at the painting again. “His designation’s Motormaster.”

“Sounds like you’re not a fan.”

Breakdown let out a humorless laugh. “You could say that. Mech was an afthead. Knock Out couldn’t stand ‘im. Called ‘im a ‘manipulative coghead’ or something.”

Amira snorted. “Yeah, that sounds like something he’d say.”

“He was actually the one who helped me leave Motormaster, you know,” Breakdown said, “He’d been tellin’ me that I shouldn’t let Motormaster push me around like that. When I’d gotten hurt during a battle, my gestalts left me behind. But Knock Out found me and fixed me up. He stayed with me while I was in stasis lock. 

“When I was finally startin’ to get better, Motormaster came tearin’ into Knock Out’s medbay, demanding that I be brought back and that I was a coward. Knock Out was so angry. He started yelling, tellin’ Motormaster exactly what he thought of ‘im. Motormaster was yelling back, saying that Knock Out was makin’ me weak, makin’ me lose sight of who I was supposed to be loyal to. He didn’t know I was online, so when he threatened to start beatin’ on Knock Out, I stepped in. Beat the scrap outta him and told him I was quittin’.”

Breakdown stared up at the painting, his eye fixed on the snarl on the mech’s face. “... I’ve never told Knock Out, but… I miss it sometimes. Bein’ a gestalt, I mean.” He shrugged. “They weren’t exactly nice to me, but whenever we were together as Devastator, I always felt so big. Like I could crush anything that got in my way. It felt like I could do anything.” 

Amira watched him as he continued to stare up at the painting. His fingers drummed against the ground, a tick she’d come to recognize meant he was thinking hard about something. Even though he didn’t elaborate, she had a good idea of where he’d been going with this. She knew that the normal thing to do in this sort of situation would be to offer words of encouragement, maybe pat his hand in a comforting gesture. 

But she and Breakdown weren’t normal. Neither of them expected to be coddled. They didn’t want it. 

Amira simply hummed and gave the painting another glance. “Well,” she said, breaking the silence, “Personally, I think you look better as you than that.” She gestured at the snarl on Devastator’s face. “He isn’t much of a looker, is he?”

That got a snort out of Breakdown. “Motormaster was the head.”

“Yet another reason you’re better off not associating with him.” She smirked. “Imagine how poor Knock Out would feel if his husband was forced to combine into this fugly thing all the time!” Breakdown actually laughed this time, his eye squinting with delight as his mouth curled up into a smile.

“Thanks, bitlet.”

Amira felt her own smile growing wider.

 

* * *

 

Amira swore as the screen flashed a bright red “FAILURE” over the trial simulation. She’d been working on constructing and deconstructing different bomb schematics for the better part of the afternoon. She was still debating over which systems would be most favorable, and had decided to have a look through the varieties the Decepticons offered. 

She’d taken a break from her reading over Cybertronian military strategy after receiving a message on her phone from Breakdown that simply read ‘Mission. Don’t wait up.’

Like hell she wasn’t.

Knock Out had been more than a little annoyed that Breakdown had volunteered for this mission. From what she could gleam from the medic’s mumbling, it was a retrieval mission for some sort of ancient piece of Decepticon technology. That alone was enough reason to wait for Breakdown’s return. She hoped that by taking a look at the artifact, it might give her an idea of what sort of things she should be looking for concerning her assignment from Megatron. 

Knock Out was buffing out one of his doors when he got a message. Amira looked up when she heard the clank of the buffing tool being set aside as Knock Out headed for the exit. “Any word?” she called out.

“He’s back,” Knock Out said simply before leaving the medbay. Despite the predictability of his response, she huffed with annoyance. It seemed that whatever change there had been between them during Breakdown’s capture had quickly dissolved, and the doctor was back to being the snarky jackass he was. She wasn’t really surprised, if she was honest with herself. 

 

An hour passed. Amira was in the middle of another attempt to cross wires when the sound of thundering footsteps drew closer. The medbay door slid open, allowing Breakdown to come stumbling in. Amira was on her feet in an instant, eyes wide and full of concern as he trudged towards the closest berth. She was moving to the walkways now, catching Knock Out’s form slipping inside before the door slid shut.

“What happened?” she demanded as she crossed the space to join Breakdown by the berth. Knock Out shot a glare her way, and she frowned at the ice in it. She turned to assess Breakdown for herself. “Breakdown?”

The Wrecker looked like he’d been buried in a rock slide. His plating was dented and scraped all over, revealing the silver metal beneath his paint, and he was covered in a thin layer of dust. She opened her mouth to speak again when she noticed something strange. She moved to the side to glance behind Breakdown.

A set of fuchsia eyes stared back at her. 

“Knock Out,” a smooth, silky voice purred out, “It seems you have vermin in your medbay.” 

Attached to Breakdown’s back was a lithe black and purple Cybertronian. They had black horns of some kind and gold accenting the sides of their face. Black paint collected below their eyes in a strange sort of design that reminded Amira of eyeliner. Their body was ridiculously small - their waist especially. Amira wondered if a simple breeze would be enough to snap them in half. A set of six long, thin, razor-sharp looking appendages extended from the stranger’s back, curling around their body like an insect. The comparison drew out a shudder that Amira had to fight down.

“That vermin,” Knock Out drawled as he pushed up a cart with an array of tools, “is currently under Megatron’s command. You would do well to not touch his things, Airachnid.”

The stranger - Airachnid - leered up at Amira again, a small smirk pulling at the corner of their mouth. “I’m sure our lord won’t miss one little human.” One of those wicked-looking appendages stretched out as if to grab her, but Breakdown laid back on the berth, forcing Airachnid face down on the cold steel with a grunt. Amira took a step back as she heard Airachnid hiss in frustration while Breakdown growled.

“Don’t test me, bug,” Breakdown snarled. He spared Amira a brief glance before forcing Airachnid harder into the cot. Amira took the hint and stepped away. Whoever this Airachnid person was, Amira wasn’t safe around them. She turned to Knock Out for some sort of explanation.

“Breakdown wasn’t able to retrieve the artifact, but he ran into dear old Airachnid here. She’s been MIA since Cybertron went dark. Megatron was more than happy to oversee Breakdown’s failure in light of her return. The only problem is,” Knock Out poked at his conjunx’s arm with the end of his stylus, “It appears that the artifact in question magnetized the two of them together. And now I get to spend the rest of my day figuring out how to get them separated.” 

“Sooner rather than later would be great, doc,” Breakdown grumbled as Airachnid thrashed, her clawed fingers gouging deep lines into the sides of the berth. It did little to move the Wrecker, but he still looked annoyed to have to deal with his current situation.

Amira’s phone vibrated in her back pocket. She fished it out and opened up the notification. It was a message from Soundwave.

 

_Just now_

 

_Soundwave: Report to the main bridge._

 

Cryptic. Normally, she’d be skeptical of such a vague order, but she would welcome any excuse if it meant getting away from the creepy con stuck to Breakdown. Amira sent back a quick affirmative before shoving her phone back into her pocket and head towards the exit. 

“Try not to miss me,” she called out over her shoulder as she passed Knock Out, desperate to keep up her calm facade in front of Airachnid. Once she was out of the medbay, her seemingly calm persona disappeared. Her shoulders tensed and her back straightened as she made her way down the corridor towards the main bridge. 

 

The walk went by in a blur, and before she knew it, Amira was entering the main bridge to find Megatron discussing something with Starscream. The air commander’s wings were stiff and lifted high above his head, all business as he spoke to Megatron. Amira began to approach, silently debating what she could say to get their attention. She hadn't spoken to Megatron since Breakdown's return, and she still wasn't sure what she should be feeling concerning him.

Before she could get a single word out, a metal tentacle appeared in her path, blocking the way. She frowned as she turned to find Soundwave moving closer to the walkway. 

“Soundwave-”

“- _Your phone_ ,” Knock Out’s voice demanded. Soundwave lifted a hand towards her, clearly ordering her to turn over the device. Slowly, Amira obeyed as she pulled out the phone and held it out for him to take. Soundwave pinched it between two fingers and brought it closer to his person. A wire slithered out of his wrist and into the charging port as the screen lit up. 

“What’s this about?” she asked. Soundwave didn’t answer. She watched as her screen flashed red and blue before her home screen appeared once more. Soundwave seemed to finish whatever he’d wanted to do, and offered her the phone back. She took it and looked over it, unable to find an obvious change. “What did you do?” Her phone buzzed in answer.

 

_Just now_

 

_Soundwave: Airachnid cannot be trusted. She went rouge after the Decepticons fled Cybertron and has a penchant for hunting down species to extinction. She enjoys taking trophies. Your cellphone has been fixed with a panic button that you are to activate if you are ever alone with her. Push the power button quickly three times and someone will come to collect you._

 

Amira felt her skin prickle as she read the message. “You really think she’ll come after me? Even though I’m a Decepticon?” Her phone buzzed again.

 

_Just now_

 

_Soundwave: Affirmative._

 

Well, fuck. Amira ran her thumb over the power button, as if she was getting a feel for the new alarm system. She bit her lip before glancing back up at the communications officer. “Anything else?” Soundwave simply shook his head. 

 

_Just now_

 

_Soundwave: Return to your duties_

 

She wondered if she should return to the medbay or wait until after Airachnid had left.

“Soundwave,” Megatron called, drawing the third-in-command’s attention. Amira knew that the conversation was truly over now. Soundwave didn’t look back at her as he moved forward to join Megatron. Starscream passed by, sneering at Soundwave before retreating out of the bridge. She made a mental note to not approach Starscream for the rest of the day - he was more of a pain in the ass than usual when he was riled up like this.

Deciding that was her cue to leave, Amira made her way back towards the exit. As she drew closer to the door, she heard Megatron’s low rumbling voice. 

“-to look into Airachnid’s logs. She has been keeping things to herself long enough.” 

Amira bit her lip as the door slid open and she stepped out into the hallway.

“See what you can find about this ‘Well of Theta’ as well,” was the last thing she heard before the door shut behind her.

Her chest filled with a sort of fire that sent her blood singing in her veins. Her heart began racing as she strode down the walkway once more. As she passed through the corridors, Amira came to a decision.

She had been sitting by idly for long enough.

It was time for her to finally put her plans for the Autobots into motion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're not Autobots! We don't talk about feelings!
> 
> Finally, we're going to get back to some action! Things are only going to pick up from here ;3c We're going into a bit of a shift next chapter, but I'm more than a little excited to get there!
> 
> The hell is a Well of Theta?
> 
> I made a playlist for Amira that I listen to whenever I'm writing her. Here it is! - https://soundcloud.com/geminiwishes/sets/amira  
> Enjoy! ^-^


	18. Tensions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What's this? A new chapter only three days later? I know. I'm just as surprised as you are. But I just couldn't stop writing this one. It's a bit shorter than I like, but I think you'll agree that it fits rather well with the pacing I'm going for :3c
> 
> -
> 
> Like what you see? Come check out my Tumblr and shoot me a message! I love hearing from you guys!
> 
> https://www.google.com/url?sa=t&source=web&rct=j&url=http://geminiwishes.tumblr.com/&ved=2ahUKEwjI2ePR0rniAhVMeawKHXCYB18QFjAAegQICBAC&usg=AOvVaw24zaMp81HoMPcDZIslJis9

Jack’s nose wrinkled as he peered into his lunchbox. His mom had packed him another container of pasta salad. That, along with the pickle and bag of salt and vinegar chips, made his lunchbox absolutely reek. He’d talked to her so many times now about not always packing his lunch full with stuff that made his breath smell so horrible, but she never seemed to get it. 

It was like she wanted him to look bad in front of Sierra. 

Jack tried his best to shrug off the thought as he popped open the lid and picked up the fork that was tucked in next to it. Even if he wasn’t a fan of bad breath, he still enjoyed his mom’s cooking. Her pasta salad was getting better, he noted as he took another bite. There was a clack of plastic against the lunch table before the seat in front of him creaked with the added weight of another person. Jack glanced up to look at the food on the tray.

“Is that supposed to be applesauce?” he asked. The goop in the left corner pocket was a faint pink color, with little brown specks in it. He wondered if that was some sort of flavoring or something.

“Who knows,” Miko said before pulling out her phone. The buttons ticked again and again as she typed something out. Jack watched her for a moment as he took another bite of pasta salad. Miko had been acting a bit off lately. For the past few months now, she seemed to be more easily irritated. He never really knew what could set her off anymore. He just hoped that whatever was bothering her would resolve itself soon.

“You alright?” he asked. “You’ve been kind of distant lately.”

“Why doesn’t Optimus let us take the Autobot brand?” she snapped. “Aren’t we Autobots too? Haven’t we been there fighting bad guys and kicking butt just like them?”

Ah, geez. “You’re still on about this?”

She glared at him. “It’s not fair! We do so much to help out, and we don’t even get to say we’re Autobots too?” 

Jack shushed her as he glanced around the cafeteria. “Ix-nay on the Tobot-ay.” Miko only snorted as she looked down at her phone again. Jack frowned. He couldn’t talk too openly about this when they were at school, but he also couldn’t leave things as they were right now. “Look,” he said quietly, “the big guy just wants to keep us safe. It’s why we have guardians, remember?”

“I want a brand,” she huffed, crossing her arms across her chest. “I have a right to choose for myself!”

“You’re sixteen, Miko. You couldn’t get it even if the big guy said yes. You have to be at least eighteen in America to get a tattoo without permission from a parent of guardian.”

“I could make it work.”

“There’s no way your host parents would let you do it. And it doesn’t even matter. Big guy said no, so no.” Miko groaned as she finally snapped her phone shut. He decided to try and comfort her a little. “If it helps, I did ask too.” Miko’s head peaked up slightly with interest. He only smiled sadly. “Arcee said no. Same reason you got.” Miko’s hopeful expression fell.

“Ugh!” She stomped her foot as she glowered down at her soggy cheese sandwich. “This is so not fair!” Jack just took another bite of his food. At this point, he knew she didn’t want advice, but just to rant. “I should just ask Optimus.”

Or not. “Uh, no.” Jack set the container down to stare her down. “Miko, that’s a terrible idea.”

“Come on, dude! You know that we deserve to wear the badge!”

“Why are you making such a big deal out of this?” he retorted. “You had no problem with not having one before. It’s not like we won’t be allowed back if we don’t wear it.” Miko didn’t answer, choosing instead to glare at him as she crossed her arms. She glared down at her tray and he sighed. “Besides, if you just confronted the big guy out of nowhere, it isn’t going to go over well.”

“And how do you figure that?” she spat.

“You’ll make Raf upset, for starters.”

“Raf will agree with me! He’s done even more for them then you and I have! How many times has he hacked into computer systems or helped, Ratchet with repairs? He deserves to wear the badge more than either of us.”

“That’s not up to you.”

“You’re right - it’s up to Raf.”

“No, it’s not. It’s up to Optimus,” Jack hissed under his breath. He snapped the lid back on his lunch and stood up. “You need to drop this, Miko. It’s not going to happen. End of story.” He held her stare for a moment before grabbing his lunch bow and leaving the table. He wasn’t going to keep encouraging her if she was going to act like a bratty little kid.

 

* * *

 

Jack didn’t talk to Miko for the rest of the school day. Every time she would pass him in the hallway, or when she tried to get his attention during class, he would turn away, feigning deafness as he flipped through a textbook. By the end of the day, Miko was absolutely fuming. When Bulkhead pulled up near the school, Miko had practically thrown her backpack into the backseat before slipping into the passenger’s seat and slamming the door shut.

“Whoa,” Bulkhead said, “Everything okay?” Miko didn’t answer as she leaned against the door and looked out the window. They waited in silence for a minute or so before he reluctantly started up his engine and pulled out of the parking space. They drove for a few blocks before he tried again. “You wanna talk about it?”

“No,” she said simply before leaning forward and flipping on the radio. Slash Monkey blasted through the speakers, drowning out any response Bulkhead had. He was about to turn the radio off when he took note of Miko’s expression. Her brow was pinched with irritation as she glared out the window, her lips pursed in a sour frown. She’d crossed her arms and pulled her knees up towards her chest. Miko didn’t get upset like this often, so seeing her like this was very telling as to what could have put her in such a mood.

Bulkhead decided to let her pout for the drive. Perhaps after some heavy metal and a monster movie, she’d be willing to open up to him.

 

* * *

 

Rafael took a moment to stretch out his spine. He’d been working on the coding for the groundbridge for the last hour or so, and the strain on his back was starting to get to him. His mom was always telling him he needed to work on having better posture, but he just could never seem to remember when he got wrapped up in a project. He took a moment to look around the room as he rolled his shoulders. 

Jack was in one of the far corners of the base, going over his homework while Arcee kept a watchful optic over him. Raf often wondered why their respective guardians would try to help them with their schoolwork. It wasn’t like they knew any more about the subject than they did. When he thought about, he supposed it was just to be supportive, which was actually rather sweet. 

Bumblebee usually would sit with Raf while he was working, but Optimus had taken him out on a recon mission for a possible energon mine. Ratchet was looking over the latest readings of possible energon deposits while keeping an optic on both Optimus and Bumblebee’s energon signals, ready to open up a groundbridge at a moment’s notice. 

Bulkhead and Miko were watching an old monster movie on the TV. Miko was curled up on the couch, her arms wrapped around her knees as she stared at the screen. Bulkhead was quietly laughing at the bad special effects, voicing his opinions about the more elaborate ones. Raf noticed that Miko wasn’t as responsive as she usually was. He’d noticed she’d been a bit more closed off lately, but nobody else had really seemed to mention it. Usually when she and Bulk watched monster movies, she was laughing along with him, pointing out her favorites bits and quoting iconic lines. Right now, however, Bulkhead was the only one who showed any sort of enthusiasm for the movie. It was definitely disconcerting, to say the least. 

“Ratchet,” Optimus’ voice called out over the main computer’s intercom. “We’ve finished our recon and are ready to return to base.”

“Acknowledged,” Ratchet replied as he triangulated Optimus’ coordinates and locked onto the signal. “Prepare for opening groundbridge,” he called out before flipping the switch. The familiar hum and green glow of the portal swelled to life, almost drowning out Optimus’ thanks before both he and Bumblebee came through in their alt modes. Bumblebee transformed and fluttered his doorwings as he approached his charge.

[Hey, Raf. Miss me?] he buzzed.

Raf grinned. “You know it.”

[You almost done with that computer stuff?] Bee asked, [I still need to kick your tailpipe in that new game you got.]

“Almost. And you are so on,” Rafael promised with a smirk.

“Have there been any further developments concerning the Decepticons’ activity, Ratchet?” Optimus asked as he walked over to the medic, joining him at the console.

“Nothing to report,” Ratchet assured him as he switched off the groundbridge, cutting off the energon flow to the device. The machine died down to the low hum of cooldown as he continued. “I’ve been working with Rafael to try and broaden our scanners. If it works, we might just be able to pick up an energon signal nearby that Megatron hasn’t found yet.”

“Excellent,” Optimus praised. He placed a servo on Ratchet’s shoulder and offered a gentle squeeze. “Keep up the good work, my friend.” Ratchet nodded in confirmation before turning back to the console. Rafael watched the exchange a moment longer before finishing up the line of code he’d paused on. As he finished up the last few lines for the sequence, he heard the shuffle of cloth followed by the stomp of boots. He glanced up in time to see Miko storm past him and towards the railing near both Ratchet and Optimus. Bulkhead called out for Miko, but she didn’t answer him.

“Hey!” she shouted, gaining both Autobots’ attention. Raf frowned as he watched her place her hands on her hips. She was upset about something, and it looked like she was about to unleash it all on both of them. “Why won’t you let us have Autobot badges?”

Both Bulkhead and Jack groaned, and Raf furrowed his brow in confusion. Was this something that had been bothering her for a while then? Arcee and Bumblebee had also looked up, seemingly interested in the question as well.

“Miko, I already told you why you can’t-” Bulkhead began, but Optimus held up a servo before meeting the Wrecker’s optics.

“Let her speak, Bulkhead.”

Miko huffed as she pursed her lips in a tight frown. “You told us when we first got here that we fought just as well as any Autobot. We’ve helped you guys out loads of times - like the scraplets and blowing up zombie Skyquake in the shadowzone. We should get our own badges! We’ve earned them!”

Bulkhead grimaced as he swayed pede to pede, obviously uncomfortable by Miko’s blunt outburst towards his commanding officer. Ratchet had risen a brow at her, as if he was waiting to see if she was done ranting. Optimus simply stared down at her with the same unreadable expression he always wore.

“I understand your frustration, Miko,” Optimus assured her. “All three of you have done more than you know to aid us in our fight against Megatron and his Decepticons.” Miko seemed to brighten up at his words. “However-” As soon as her hopeful smile appeared, it was gone, replaced with a distasteful scowl, “I cannot allow you to take the Autobot badge.”

“Why not?!” 

“While you are all admirable warriors, you are all still children. Younglings of your species. I am reluctant to allow even the most seasoned human soldiers to become involved in our war. When we came to this planet, we made a vow that we would protect your kind and your world, and leave it as untouched as we can.” He leaned closer to meet Miko’s eye. “If you wore the Autobot badge, it would put you at further risk, not only from Megatron, but other humans as well. If agents of MECH discovered your badge, they would know right away that your are affiliated with us. That is a risk I cannot afford to take.”

“That’s not fair!” Miko shouted, stomping her foot in frustration. 

“Perhaps not,” Optimus conceded, “but I have a duty to you as a protector of this planet. I’ve made promises to Agent Fowler, June Darby, and all of you, and I do not intend to break them.” Rafael couldn’t see Miko’s face, but he could tell that she was seething. He curled in on himself slightly as she curled her hands into tight fists.

“I’m just a joke to you, aren’t I?” she hissed. Optimus’ optics widened slightly as he blinked in shock. “You think that if you just tell me I’m one of you, I’ll follow along with it. Is this supposed to be funny?”

“I never joke, Miko.”

“Yeah? Well, this whole thing is starting to feel like a big joke!” She stomped her foot again. 

“Watch it,” Ratchet finally snapped, frowning down at her. Miko spun to look around the room and stopped when her eyes landed on Raf. He cringed as his eyes reluctantly met hers.

“Come on, Raf,” Miko said, a small plea in her tone, “You agree with me, right? You know we deserve the badge. Think of everything you’ve done to help!” She motioned towards Ratchet. “You’re spending almost all of your time here helping Ratchet with tech stuff. You more than anyone deserve to be an Autobot!”

Rafael was frozen to the spot. He felt his skin prickle as everyone’s eyes and optics landed on him. He hated being the center of attention like this. He could see Bee taking a step towards him out of the corner of his eye. He squirmed slightly in his seat as his fingers flitted across the keys of his keyboard, desperate to distract him from the silence that was quickly becoming deafening. 

“I-I, um…” he stammered, “I don’t…” He could feel his cheeks flushing, and he could have sworn he felt the blush spread up to the tips of his ears. He stared down at his hands, grazing his fingers over the spacebar as he tried to hide from everyone’s eyes. There was another stomp before Miko let out a shout of frustration and stormed off, her boots clomping loudly as she descended the steps and ran down the hallway.

“Miko,” Bulkhead called out before following after her. Optimus didn’t try to stop them, simply watching as both Miko and Bulkhead disappeared down the hallway. The base was silent for a moment before Ratchet let out a huff.

“Younglings,” he scoffed as he crossed his arms, “Always so demanding.”

“Do not judge Miko so harshly,” Optimus defended. “She is young, yes, but she is passionate. I cannot fault her for defending her beliefs and speaking her mind.” Ratchet glanced at their leader for a moment before letting out a harrumph and returning to his work at the console.

[You alright?] Rafael glanced up at Bee, finding his guardian standing at the railing with a look of concern. [You looked like you wanted the ground to open up and swallow you whole.] Raf frowned down at his laptop before simply shrugging. Bee whirred thoughtfully before moving closer to get Rafael’s attention. [How about we get out for a bit?]

“But you just got back.”

[That’s mission stuff. We haven’t had a chance to go on a drive together for almost a week now.] He motioned towards Raf’s laptop with a digit. [Come on. Put your computer away and take a break. We can play that game on my console and get some fresh air.]

Rafael felt himself smile shyly. “Yeah,” he said as he closed the laptop, “Okay.”

 

* * *

 

Rafael groaned in defeat as Bee’s car passed his at the last moment, speeding over the finish line and ending the race. “I still think it isn’t fair to play racing games with you,” he argued. “I’ve never driven a real car and you literally are one.”

[Don’t hate the player. Hate the game~] Rafael snickered as Bee twirled his steering wheel with delight. [What do you say? Best five out of nine?]

“No way.” Raf set the controller aside and leaned back in his seat. He tilted his head back and glanced out the window, looking out at the desert road. “Hey, Bee?”

[Yeah?]

“Do you think I should have taken Miko’s side?” 

Bee’s tires twisted on the spot, slowly grinding the gravel beneath the rubber. [I don’t know] Bee answered honestly, [I get the whole ‘sticking with your kind’ part, but I don’t really know about the badge thing.]

“I didn’t even know it had been bothering her this much,” Raf said. “I mean, I guess I understand where she’s coming from. Helping you guys has been so awesome.” He fiddled with the hem of his shirt. “But still… I don’t… I don’t know if I really want to have a badge.” He quickly looked up at Bee’s console. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m happy to help out! I want to do my part to help you guys defeat Megatron, and I think of myself as one of you already. It’s just…” He trailed off, frowning as he tried to find the right words.

[You don’t want to put yourself in any more danger than you already have.]

“I guess,” Raf replied with a shrug. 

[That’s a completely valid reason, Raf. You’re just a kid. You’re supposed to want to stay safe.] Bee whirred slightly. [Honestly, I think we all wish Miko would worry about her well-being a little bit more.]

“I just can’t believe she’d been letting this get to her so much.”

[Has she mentioned it to you before?]

“Not outright. But she has been pretty irritable for the past few weeks. I thought it was because the Cons weren’t doing much.” Raf tapped his chin with a finger as he pondered the chain of events. “She’s usually quick to make jokes about being a Wrecker, but lately she stopped mentioning it altogether. Ever since…” Rafael paused.

[Ever since what?] Bee prompted. Rafael sat up in his seat, his eyes widening with realization.

“Ever since you guys brought Amira to the base.”

[Amira?] Rafael felt the hair on the back of his neck prickle as Bee’s EM field shifted. [What does she have to do with this?] Rafael worked his jaw for a moment. He hadn’t really told Bumblebee what had transpired all those months ago when he and the others had approached the strange young woman in the brig. He’d told Bee that she’d teased Jack a little and said some nasty things to Miko, but he hadn’t given very many details. At the time, Rafael just wanted to forget the whole ordeal and continue on with his life.

“When the three of us went to go see her, Miko got really mad that Amira kept saying she wasn’t really a Wrecker. She told her about the training and the test everyone takes and the oaths. Kept saying that she wasn’t a Wrecker just because Bulkhead said she was one. And then…” Rafael shifted in his seat again. He didn’t like remembering Amira’s words. Even though they were only said to Miko, he couldn’t help but feel like they were aimed at all three of them.

[Then?]

“...She called her a mascot. She said that you guys just kept us around because we make you all feel better after you go out and hurt Decepticons. She said that Miko was just trying to convince herself that she wasn’t worthless and that she wasn’t an Autobot because she didn’t actually do anything for you guys. That’s when she showed us her tattoo. She said that she was better than Miko because she actually had value to the Decepticons.”

Bumblebee was silent for a moment, and Rafael felt his gut twist, worried he had said too much. Then Bumblebee’s engine rumbled as he pulled out of his parking spot and sped down the road. Rafael pressed back into the seat just as Bee wrapped the seat belt around his middle.

“Bee?”

[You’re not a mascot] Bee said sharply. [None of you are. You guys are our friends. Our family. You know that, right?] 

“I-”

[I need to know that you know that, Raf.]

Rafael felt his shoulders sag slightly, a sense of calm overtaking him at the urgency and the concern in Bee’s tone. “Yeah. Yeah, I know, Bee.” He reached out to rest a hand on Bee’s dashboard. “I think of you as my family too.” He felt the dashboard vibrate with a purr under his hand, making him smile.

[You mind if we drive around for a bit? I think better when I’m moving.]

“Sure thing, Bee.”

 

* * *

 

Bumblebee and Rafael rode around the desert for the better part of the afternoon, playing music and distracting themselves with stories. It was only when the sun began to set that Rafael reluctantly asked to be taken home. Bumblebee conceded after another round of the racing game. He played one of Raf’s favorite songs as they drove back into town. Rafael smiled as the bass thumped throughout Bee’s frame. He was grateful to Bee for cheering him up, and gently pet the Cybertronian’s interior in silent appreciation.

Bee slowly pulled up to the curb in front of Rafael’s house and came to a stop before shifting into park. The volume on the radio lowered as Rafael reached into the back to grab his backpack and his laptop.

[See you tomorrow?] Bee asked.

“Definitely,” Raf agreed. “Just you wait. I’m going to practice and kick your butt at this game if it’s the last thing I do.”

[Oh ho! Big words for a guy who lost four times in a row!]

“Enjoy your victory while you can!” Raf said with a grin as he stepped out onto the lawn. “You won’t be so confident when I smoke you next time!”

[You’re on!] Bee shut his door and revved his engine before pulling away. Rafael laughed as he watched him drive down the street, flickering his tail lights in goodbye. Raf waved back until Bee turned the corner and disappeared. Raf pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose before adjusting the strap of his backpack and turning towards his house. 

He hummed the song Bee had been playing as he crossed the lawn and opened the front door, kicking the dirt off of his feet before walking inside. The smell of cooked rice and chicken wafted into his nose, and he breathed deeply as he set his backpack down by the door and kicked off his shoes.

“Mama!” he called out, “I’m home!”

“Rafael!” his mother called out, poking her head out of the kitchen, “Hello, mijo. How was your club meeting?” 

Raf walked past the living room to join her in the kitchen. “It was fun! Are we having dinner soon?”

“In a few minutes. We have a guest,” his mother said before stepping back into the kitchen.

“Oh?” Raf asked as he turned into the kitchen, “Who is it?” He looked into the kitchen and froze. His smile fell away and his heart shot up into his throat. He stood in the doorway to the kitchen, staring with wide eyes. His baby sister was cooing happily as she was gently bounced on a knee, a smile on her face and a trail of drool running down her chin.

“Hello, Rafael,” Amira said with a warm smile, keeping a firm grip on his sister, “I hope you don’t mind me barging in unannounced, but I think you and I need to talk.”

* * *

 

( [I made a meme for the last scene](https://geminiwishes.tumblr.com/post/188394141455))

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :3c To be continued~
> 
> I made a playlist for Amira that I listen to whenever I'm writing her. Here it is! - https://soundcloud.com/geminiwishes/sets/amira  
> Enjoy! ^-^


	19. Like a Hostage

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ANOTHER ONE ALREADY. I KNOW. I just can't stop, you guys! I literally wrote this entire thing in one sitting. I took the day before off and sat down today and spit out this entire thing. Take and enjoy!
> 
> TW for anxiety attacks near the end of the chapter. Read at your own risk!
> 
> -
> 
> Like what you see? Come check out my Tumblr and shoot me a message! I love hearing from you guys!
> 
> https://www.google.com/url?sa=t&source=web&rct=j&url=http://geminiwishes.tumblr.com/&ved=2ahUKEwjI2ePR0rniAhVMeawKHXCYB18QFjAAegQICBAC&usg=AOvVaw24zaMp81HoMPcDZIslJis9

Rafael could feel his heart pounding in his chest as he watched Amira gently bounce his baby sister on her knee. He wanted to bolt from the kitchen and try to wave Bumblebee down, despite how useless it would be. His eyes flickered between Amira and his mother, who stirred the pan of chicken and rice, blissfully unaware of the danger. 

“Mijo,” his mother called over her shoulder, “Could you get drinks for everyone? I need to keep an eye on this or else it might burn.” He didn’t want to move. He didn’t want to take his eyes off of the Decepticon that was currently sitting at his kitchen table. He wanted to snatch both his sister and his mother and run. 

Who else was here? Were there other Decepticons hiding out somewhere nearby? Was the Decepticon warship hovering above his home right now, cloaked so none of his neighbors would see it? Were they watching them right now? What about the rest of his family? He hadn’t seen his father’s car in the driveway. He desperately wanted to try and find everyone in the house.

But Amira was watching him too. She made it less obvious with a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes, but he could tell that she was keeping her full attention on him. She was wearing a baby blue blouse with sleeves that hid her tattoo, along with khaki pants and blue flats - no cast or splint in sight. She looked entirely innocent in those clothes, like she’d just left a job interview of some kind. He felt his palms getting clammy as she continued to play with his sister, giving him that too-sweet smile.

“Mijo?” Rafael’s eyes flicked over to his mother. She was frowning, her brow furrowed with slight concern. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost. Are you alright?”

“Yes, Rafael,” Amira repeated, “Are you alright?” To his mother, Amira’s tone held concern, but Raf knew better. It was a threat. If he tried to call attention to what was happening, to who exactly Amira was, things would get ugly fast.

He forced out a weak “F-Fine. Just hungrier than I thought.” He moved slowly, shuffling towards the cabinet where the glasses were kept. He placed the small stool on the floor and climbed up before reaching up for a stack of glasses.

“So,” his mother sing-songed, sounding for all the world like she was excited, “Miss Jones was telling me about a scholarship opportunity they’re offering for your science fiction club.” Raf had to keep from dropping the tower of glasses in his hands as he set them down. 

“O-Oh?”

“Yes,” Amira hummed, matching his mother’s excited tone, “I heard the principal talking about it with your teacher chaperone. You know, the one who runs the science fiction club?” Rafael felt his skin crawl at just how easy the lie slipped out of her mouth. “I’m just a TA for Rafael’s history teacher, but I sometimes run errands to the office to make copies and print worksheets. I overheard the principal mention it and remembered that Rafael was in the science fiction club. His history teacher always speaks so highly of him, so I thought I’d come tell you about it myself.”

Rafael’s mother’s chest puffed up with pride at the shallow praise. Amira smirked as his mother turned to look at him. “That’s my baby. Always so studious and well-behaved.”

“Indeed.” Rafael grimaced as he carefully filled each glass with water and brought them to the table, avoiding getting too close to Amira. Even without meeting her eyes, he could feel her burning gaze. It turned his stomach as he went on filling the glasses. 

Minutes passed by. Rafael’s mother had him finish setting the table while she and Amira continued to talk about how well Rafael was doing in school. The compliments and praise stayed fairly generic at first, but as his mother finished preparing dinner, Amira started mentioning more specific things - like what he was currently studying in history, and the upcoming science fair. Raf’s blood ran cold. 

She knew which school he went to. She knew the names of his teachers. She knew his class schedule. She even knew that he was struggling in the art elective he was taking. The entire exchange seemed so innocent and wholesome, but Rafael saw it for what it really was. Amira was taunting him, showing him just how little power he had in this situation, and how easily she could manipulate those close to him. 

His mother excused herself for a moment, stepping out of the kitchen to call everyone to dinner. As soon as she was out of the kitchen, Rafael’s head whipped around towards Amira. 

“Put her down,” he hissed quietly. 

Amira just smirked as she continued to bounce the infant on her knee. “I’d choose your words very carefully, Rafael.”

“How did you find me? Why are you here?”

“Not now,” she hummed as she lifted his sister up into the air, making her squeal with joy. “After dinner, I think. It’s been a long time since I’ve had a home-cooked meal.” She glanced at him with a sense of smug satisfaction. Rafael felt growing rage bubble in his stomach as he watched her bring his sister closer to her own face. He opened his mouth to retort, but before he could, his older sister Pilar walked in, earbuds shoved in her ears as she stared down at her phone. She hummed as she walked over to the table and sat down at her usual seat. The rest of his siblings soon followed, and Rafael knew there would be no more discussion for now.

 

* * *

The kitchen was filled with the sound of everyone trying to talk over each other and the clink of utensils against dishes. His siblings were all garnering for Amira’s attention, prodding her for any information about their teachers she knew. Rafael shuddered again when she gave detailed responses. His mother seemed to appreciate her company, especially since Amira had offered to feed the baby so that she could eat. Rafael wanted to pick his sister up out of the highchair she was sitting in and hold her close and away from Amira.

The most frustrating thing though, was how easily Amira acted like she cared. If he hadn’t seen her spitting venom in Jack and Miko’s faces, he would have thought she was a delightful young woman with a nice smile. She acted like she was genuinely interested in what his brothers and sisters had to say, giving appropriate answers and encouraging them to continue whenever they paused. She barely said a word, and yet somehow, she won over everyone at the table. 

His dad had gotten home in the middle of dinner and for a moment, Rafael wondered if he would be able to see past Amira’s act and sense the danger they were in. But it wasn’t to be. As soon as his dad had entered the kitchen, Amira had gotten to her feet and offered to make up a plate for him, introducing herself with enthusiasm. Rafael’s dad smiled and accepted a handshake and a plate of chicken and rice. 

Whatever happened next, Raf was on his own. 

 

* * *

It wasn’t until dinner was almost completely devoured that the bogus scholarship was brought up again. “You mentioned something earlier about a scholarship for Rafael?” his father asked as he wiped his mouth clean with a napkin. 

Amira nodded with a smile. “Yes. It’s a wonderful opportunity for him. They’re focusing on offering scholarships at some of the universities leading the science and math programs to interest more children. It sounded like something Rafael would definitely be interested in.” She took another bite of chicken and rice before setting her fork down. “Mm, this is absolutely delicious.”

“Oh, thank you,” Raf’s mom said with a smile, happily accepting the compliment. 

Amira set her napkin aside as she scooted her chair back from the table. “If you don’t mind, I’d like to speak to Rafael alone. This is his decision to make.” Rafael’s hands gripped the seat of his chair, desperate to keep him in the kitchen with his family. Amira must have sensed his hesitancy, because she turned to his mother and said “I can take her up to change her if you’d like?” She motioned to his baby sister. “I was the oldest of four, so I know what to do.”

Rafael was sure that his mother would refuse. She was so protective of her daughter, after all. But she just gave Amira a relieved smile and said “Oh, you don’t need to do that.”

“I insist. She’s so sweet, and I’m sure you’d like to enjoy the rest of your dinner. Really, it’s no trouble at all,” Amira assured her as she picked the infant up and set her on her hip like it was second nature. A lump lodged itself in Rafael’s throat.

“Oh! Well, thank you,” his mother said happily.

Amira nodded before catching Raf’s eye. “Would you mind showing me where the nursery is?” He absolutely  _ did  _ mind. But before he could voice it, his father shot him a stern look that stole the words out of his mouth. No matter what he said, it wouldn’t help him right now. 

Perhaps it would be better if he went with her. At least then he could speak freely. Rafael nodded weakly as he hopped out of his chair and circled around the table to head for the staircase. As he began to climb the stairs, he heard Amira’s footsteps as she followed closely behind. His hand gripped the banister tightly, making his knuckles white with the force behind his grip. He felt like a little kid who’d turned off the lights in the basement and was resisting the urge to run up the stairs to escape the monsters they were certain were following them.

Amira drew closer as they climbed the stairs and mumbled “No tricks now. I won’t hesitate to retaliate if you do.”  The honey had completely evaporated from her voice. Bile rose to the back of his throat. His sister was an innocent. And Amira was threatening to hurt her if he didn’t comply. He was sure he was going to be sick. His hands were shaking as they reached the second floor and crossed the hallway to enter the nursery. “After you,” she said. Rafael quietly stepped inside.

Amira entered the nursery and closed the door behind her, her other hand still keeping a firm grip on his sister as she locked the door with a faint click. 

Rafael could hear his heartbeat in his ears. 

Amira hummed as she crossed the small room and set his sister down on the changing station. “Sit,” she ordered, pointing to the rocking chair in the far corner as she pulled out a fresh diaper and a bottle of baby powder. Rafael did not comply.

“Get away from her.”

“The sooner you sit down and listen to me, the sooner I will gladly do just that.” she motioned to the rocking chair again.

“She’s a  _ baby _ .”

“And you’re a child.  _ Don’t _ make me repeat myself again, Rafael.”

Rafael wanted to argue further, but Amira began to pick apart the buttons on his sister’s onesie, and he felt the fight slowly beginning to deflate, replaced by a sorrowful acceptance. He grimaced as he crossed the room and sat down in the rocking chair with a soft creak of aged wood. 

They remained silent as Amira cleaned his sister with practiced ease, the silence occasionally being broken by a gurgle and coo from the baby. Amira had wrapped up and thrown away the soiled diaper before she finally spoke. “I wonder what your mother would say if she knew just what exactly your science fiction club was,” she hummed. Rafael stiffened.

“How did you find my address?”

“You think I’m going to just tell you that?” She smirked at him over her shoulder. “Give me some credit at least.”

“Who else is here?”

“Some back-up. You won’t have to worry about them, though. Not as long as you cooperate.”

“Cooperate how? Why did you come here?”

“You ask a lot of questions,” she said with a sigh. “I told you that I’ve made promises to Lord Megatron that I intend to keep. I’m not going to let anything get in my way. Especially a couple of stubborn little kids who think they have any sort of reason to be involved.”

“Why do you even care?” he snapped. “If you’re really a Decepticon, than you don’t care who you have to hurt to get what you want. Why does it matter whether or not we’re kids?”

Amira sprinkled a bit of baby powder over his sister before frowning up at him. “If I really need to explain that to you, then the Autobots have warped your sense of reason more than I thought.” She spat out the words as if they had left a bad taste in her mouth. “What matters right now though, is me getting you and your friends out of the way.” She laid down the fresh diaper and situated his sister’s bottom on top of it. “Now, I could just kill you. Stars knows it would be the easiest option.”

“So why don’t you, then?” As soon as the words left his mouth, Rafael wanted nothing more than to shove them back in. 

Amira paused in the middle of attaching one of the straps to the front of the fresh diaper before looking up at him again. Her expression was neutral, carefully so. Her nostrils flared as she breathed out and narrowed her eyes at him. “Maybe I just don’t want to expend the energy,” she said with a hint of irritation. She finished putting the fresh diaper on and snapped the buttons on the onesie closed one at a time. When she finished, she picked the baby up once again and laid her across her chest, resting the small head on her shoulder.

“Just tell me what you want,” Rafael said quietly. 

Amira hummed as she gently pat his sister’s back. “I want you and your friends to cut all ties to the Autobots.”

“No.” 

“You don’t actually think you have any reason to be involved in this war, do you?” She sounded almost amused by the question.

“It’s not about that. The Autobots are my family now too. I won’t let you scare me into giving them up.” He wanted to badly to say it with pride, but he could feel his teeth chattering with nerves as his hands clenched into clammy fists. 

Amira frowned, her brow lowering in irritation. “Don’t be difficult. You weren’t nearly this stubborn the last time we spoke.”

‘The last time we spoke, we barely said two words to each other before you were tearing into Miko,’ he thought bitterly. He narrowed his eyes at her, holding her gaze. Amira said nothing as she met his eyes, running her hand along his sister’s back in slow circles. She pursed her lips in thought for a moment before she hummed.

“I’ll be honest - I didn’t expect this much resistance. From Miko, definitely. But you?” She snorted. “You can’t even stand up to the fifteen-year-old who harrasses you in gym class. And yet somehow, you have the balls to stand up to  _ me? _ ” She flashed her teeth with a grin. “Looks like Miko’s been more of an influence than I thought.”

“I’m-I’m not going to stop hanging out with Bumblebee, so you can forget it.” It took every ounce of courage he had left to push the words out. “Now put my sister down.” Amira sneered, and for a split second, Raf worried she was going to take his command literally. She crossed the nursery, bringing one of her hands up to cup the back of his sister’s soft neck. 

Rafael leaned back in the rocking chair as she stopped in front of him, their legs almost touching as she towered over him. She peered down at him under her nose before she let out an amused hum. “When I discovered where you live, I almost gave the address to Lord Megatron, you know. Tell me,” she leaned forward, bringing her face closer to his, “Do you think  _ he _ would have given you a chance to walk away?” 

Rafael swallowed. 

“I’m doing you a favor, Rafael. If Lord Megatron had his way, your entire city would be nothing but a smear in the desert. This is me being merciful.” She moved even closer to him. “You’re the smart one, right? So use that big brain of yours and  _ think _ . I know where you live. I know where you go to school. I know who you spend your time with and who you love.” She was almost nose-to-nose with him now. Rafael could feel his pulse in the back of his throat as he fought down his trembling. “I’d think very carefully about whether or not this war is worth putting all of that at risk.”

Rafael’s eyes were burning now, and he pulled his bottom lip in between his teeth to keep it from wobbling. Amira kept eye contact for a moment longer before finally stepping back, an almost gentle smile on her face. As if on cue, his sister let out a whine and squirmed in Amira’s arms. Amira shushed her as she patted her back. 

“Your mom will start wondering what’s taking us so long,” Amira thought out loud before turning on her heel and walking over to the door and unlocking it. She turned to look at him again before tilting her head in a silent command to follow. Utterly defeated and terrified, Rafael followed, his head bowed as his feet shuffled along the carpet. He noticed for the first time that he was still only wearing socks.

He paused at the top of the stairs as his vision began to blur. He took a deep breath as he tried to collect himself. He closed his eyes and swallowed as he counted to ten. By the time he opened his eyes, Amira was already at the bottom of the stairs, talking to Rafael’s father with that sugary-sweet smile again.

He was definitely going to be sick.

He forced himself to descend to the stairs, keeping a tight grip on the banister. He caught the tail-end of their conversation as he reached the bottom of the stairs. 

“ -really do appreciate your hospitality,” Amira said. She lifted his sister up into the air before bringing her close and blowing a raspberry against her soft cheek. “And thank you for letting me take care of this little cutie!”

“You really are a natural with her,” his father said with a tired smile. “If you ever need any extra money, you’re always welcome to babysit.”

Rafael wasn’t sure he was still breathing.

“Oh, I’d be happy to!” Amira exclaimed before finally - _ finally _ \- handing the baby off to his father. She turned to meet Rafael’s eyes one more time. “Think about what I said, Rafael. After all, it’s  _ your future _ .” With that, she offered his father one last goodbye before slipping out the front door and shutting it behind her. 

His father hummed as he smiled down at Rafael. “Well, she seems absolutely lovely.” He chuckled as he set the baby on his hip. “You need to tell me more about this scholarship offer, bud.”

“Um…” Rafael could feet his heart hammering against his ribcage. “M-Maybe later, dad.” 

His father frowned as he drew closer to the stairs. “Hey, what’s wrong? Are you alright? You’re as white as a sheet.”

“Am I?” He definitely felt like it. “I’m… I’m not feeling so good. I think I’m gonna go lay down.”

“Are you sure?” his father asked. “You barely touched your dinner.”

“Not hungry,” Raf mumbled before he bolted up the stairs. He heard his father calling out to him, but he didn’t process the words as he ran into his room and slammed the door shut. He fumbled with the lock as his breathing picked up before it locked with a faint click. He scrambled backwards until his back thumped against the side of his desk. 

With a whimper, Rafael shoved his desk chair aside and crawled into the space underneath where his legs usually went. Once he was curled up, the floodgates finally broke as he let out a weak sob. He couldn’t stop the trembling now as his breathing came out in faint hiccups. His vision blurred with tears that he didn’t have the strength to wipe away. They fell down his cheeks and dripped onto his pants. Rafael felt his breath picking up as he began to hyperventilate.

It had been months since his last panic attack. Rafael hadn’t had one since meeting Bee.

_ Bee. _

He needed to call Bee. He needed to tell them that Amira had been here. He had to warn the others. He kept repeating the thought over and over again in his head as he continued to panic. He slowly began to rock as he desperately tried to calm down. He needed to calm down.  _ He needed to calm down. _ But try as he might, he just couldn’t get his breathing to even out. Rafael moaned weakly as he tried to ride out the panic.

He hated this part. He hated when the rational part of his brain told him he needed to calm down but his body just wouldn’t  _ listen _ . 

He was trapped inside of himself. 

The only small mercy he had was having the room to himself for once, so that none of his brothers would be witness to his misery.

An undetermined amount of time passed before Rafael’s breathing finally started to even out. It could have been a few minutes. It could have been an hour. He had no idea. It didn’t matter.

What did matter was getting a hold of Bumblebee and telling him what had just happened. Rafael rubbed the sleeve of his shirt against his face, wiping away as much of tears and snot as he could manage. He sniffled, taking in big gulps of air to try and even out his breathing even more.

He didn’t bother to look at the clock sitting on the desk as he crawled out and got to his feet. He quietly unlocked the door and peeked out, checking to make sure that no one was in the hallway. With the coast clear, he stepped out and headed for the far end of the hallway, where the upstairs landline hung in the cradle. 

Rafael picked up the receiver and held it to his ear as he dialed the phone number with still-trembling fingers. There was silence for a moment before the phone began to ring. He gripped the phone in both hands now as he waited. The line kept ringing. And ringing. And ringing. 

Finally, after almost an eternity, the other end picked up.

[Hello?] 

Rafael almost burst into tears again at the sound of Bumblebee’s familiar beeping. He shut his eyes as he let out a small whimper.

[Hello?]

“B-Bee?”

[Raf? What’s wrong?]

Rafael had to swallow a few times to keep himself from panicking again. “I-I got home and I w-walked inside a-and-” he sniffled, “A-Amira was sitting in my kitchen.”

Dead silence. And then…

[ **What.** ]

“A-Amira was in my house. Sh-She was holding my sister.” Saying out loud made the horror of the situation all the more real. Rafael tried to bite back a sob, but it came out anyway. “Bee, she was in my house. Sh-She knows where I live.”

[I’m coming to get you. Stay inside.] 

Rafael nodded, despite how useless the gesture was. He let out another whimper. “B-Bee, I’m… I’m scared.”

[I’m coming, Raf. I’m coming. I’ll be there as soon as I can. I promise.] Despite the fact that Bumblebee only spoke in a series of beeps and whirrs, Rafael could tell that there was a cold tinge to his words. Bumblebee was worried. Maybe even scared.

Rafael leaned against the wall and slid to the floor, clutching the receiver like a lifeline. “Please hurry,” he whimpered as a fresh wave of tears began to fall down his cheeks.

 

* * *

Amira scanned over the identical houses as she walked down the street at a leisurely pace. She had no doubt that Rafael was going to call the Autobots any moment now - if he hadn’t already. But she wasn’t worried about being caught. This neighborhood was too open to simply open a groundbridge, so they’d have to go the long way. She made a note to tell Megatron to narrow the search down to the area surrounding Jasper.

She turned down another block and spotted Margaret parked on the street corner. She kept her posture casual as she made her way over to the sleek black and purple car. The passenger’s side opened and she slipped inside before the door slammed shut again. 

“Everything go alright?” they asked.

“A bit bumpy, but I think the message got through,” she replied as she clicked the seatbelt into the buckle. “Ready to go when you are.” Margaret’s engine roared to life before they pulled away from the curb, taking the main road out onto the highway. Amira peered out the window as the houses zoomed by.

While she had initially been all too eager to start her plan, she couldn’t help but find that this first step brought no real satisfaction. 

She wasn’t sure just how much more of Rafael’s insufferable family she could take. His mother was ignorant and far too trusting. No wonder Rafael had gotten into a strange car he didn’t know - his mother probably encouraged it, the idiot. His father was basically a drone, constantly agreeing with everything his wife said with a nod and a “Yes, dear.” Ugh.

The worst of all, though, was the siblings, They were all so loud, clamoring for their parents’ attention and completely ignoring their surroundings. She had to refrain from hitting the oldest girl with her phone. She would have given anything to be where she was - sitting at home with her brother and both of her parents in a warm, lived-in home with home-cooked food.

If it wasn’t for the fact that she had been counting on him falling for her bluff, she would have been offended that he thought she would have purposely hurt a baby. She might be in the middle of a war, but there was still a minute sliver of compassion left that she saved solely for small children. She blamed her early years with Lucas for that.

“Remind me what the point of all of this is?” Margaret asked suddenly.

“Which part?”

“The whole ‘showing up at their base’ thing. Shouldn’t we just report this directly to Soundwave so we can coordinate an airstrike?”

“That would be too easy.” It also wasn’t what she wanted. But she wasn’t about to voice that part aloud. “In order to make this work, we need to make the Autobots paranoid. I want them so worried about my next move that they exhaust themselves trying to prepare for it.”

“It seems like a lot of work for little payoff.”

“Oh, don’t worry. It'll definitely be worth it once I’m done.” Amira glanced back out the window. “I’m just getting started.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To clarify: Amira is in fact a misanthrope, but she also has a few sociopathic tendencies, such as learned behavior in order to invoke a necessary reaction out of whoever she's interacting with. Amira can be very charming when she wants to be. She just doesn't give a fuck most of the time.
> 
> We're getting into the really good stuff now! I've had this scene planned for months!!!!
> 
> I made a playlist for Amira that I listen to whenever I'm writing her. Here it is! - https://soundcloud.com/geminiwishes/sets/amira  
> Enjoy! ^-^


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